HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


BY 
FRANK  THILLY 

Professor  of  Philosophy  in  Cornell  University 


NEW  YORK 
HENRY   HOLT   AND   COMPANY 


COPTBIGHT,  1914, 
BT 

HENET  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 
January,  1931 


PRINTED  IN  THE  U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTION 

PAGE 

History  of  Philosophy 1 

Science,  Philosophy,  and  Religion 3 

General  Classification 3 

Sources  of  Study 3 

Bibliography 4 

GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 
PHILOSOPHY  OF  NATURE 

1.  ORIGIN  AND  DEVELOPMENT  OF  EARLY  GREEK  THOUGHT      ...  7 

History  of  Greek  Philosophy 7 

Environment 7 

Politics 8 

Literature 9 

Religion 10 

Philosophy 11 

Survey  of  Greek  Philosophy 11 

Bibliography 13 

2.  DEVELOPMENT  OF  PRE-SOPHISTIC  PHILOSOPHY 14 

3.  PROBLEM  OF  SUBSTANCE 16 

Thales 16 

Anaximander 17 

Anaximenes 18 

4.  PROBLEM  OF  NUMBER 18 

Pythagoras  and  his  School 19 

Pythagorean  Number-Theory 20 

Astronomy 21 

6.   PROBLEM  OF  CHANGE 22 

Heraclitus 23 

Union  of  Opposites 23 

Law  of  Reason 25 

Psychology  and  Ethics 25 

School  of  Elea 26 

Theology  (Xenophanes) 27 

Ontology  (Parmenides) 28 

Dialectics  (Zeno  and  Melissus) 29 

6.   EXPLANATION  OF  CHANGE .  30 

Solution  of  the  Riddle 30 

ill 


iv  CONTENTS 

Empedoeles 31 

Anaxagoras 33 

Atomists 36 

PROBLEMS  OF  KNOWLEDGE  AND  CONDUCT 

7.  AGE  OF  THE  SOPHISTS 40 

Progress  of  Thought 41 

Greek  Enlightenment 42 

Sophists 44 

Significance  of  Sophistry 48 

8.  SOCRATES 60 

Life  of  Socrates 50 

Problem  of  Truth 61 

Socratic  Method 63 

Ethics 66 

Pupils  of  Socrates 67 

AGE  OF  RECONSTRUCTION 

9.  PLATO          58 

Plato  and  his  Problem 58 

Dialectics 60 

Doctrine  of  Ideas 63 

Philosophy  of  Nature      . 65 

Psychology 67 

Ethics 69 

Politics 71 

Plato's  Historical  Position 73 

Platonic  School 75 

10.  ABISTOTLE           75 

Aristotle's   Problems 75 

Philosophy  and  the  Sciences 78 

Logic 79 

Metaphysics 82 

Physics        . 85 

Biology 87 

Psychology 87 

Ethics 89 

Politics 93 

Peripatetic  School 94 

ETHICAL  MOVEMENT 

11.  THE  OUTLOOK 94 

12.  EPICUREANISM 97 

Epicurus 97 

The  Problem  98 


CONTENTS  v 

PAGE 

Logic 98 

Metaphysics 99 

Psychology 101 

Ethics i        .  101 

Politics 103 

13.  STOICISM .       .  104 

Zeno  and  his  School 104 

Logic 105 

Metaphysics 108 

Cosmology 109 

Psychology Ill 

Ethics Ill 

Politics        .               114 

Religion 114 

Resume"  of  Greek  Ethics 115 

14.  SKEPTICISM  AND  ECLECTICISM 116 

Skeptical  School 116 

Doctrines  of  the  School 117 

Later  Skeptics 119 

Eclecticism 119 


RELIGIOUS  MOVEMENT 

15.  JEWISH-GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 120 

Philosophy  and  Religion 120 

Beginnings  of  Jewish-Greek  Philosophy 122 

Philo 123 

16.  NEOPLATONISM 125 

Neopythagoreanism 125 

Neoplatonism 126 

Plotinus 127 

Theology 127 

Three  Stages  of  Being 128 

Human  Soul 130 

Mysticism 131 

Porphyry 131 

Jamblichus 132 

Close  of  School  at  Athens 132 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 
RISE  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY 

17.  BEGINNINGS  OF  CHRISTIANITY 133 

Revival  of  Religion 133 

Christianity 133 

Christianity  and  Classical  Culture 134 


vi  CONTENTS 

PAOB 

Scholastic  Philosophy 136 

Bibliography 137 

18.  DEVELOPMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY 137 

Early  Theology 137 

Gnostics 138 

Apologists 140 

Teachings  of  the  Apologists 141 

Logos-Doctrine 143 

Free  Will  and  Original  Sin 146 

19.  WORLD- VIEW  OF  AUGUSTINE 147 

Augustine >,       .  147 

Theory  of  Knowledge 148 

Theology 149 

Psychology 150 

Ethics 151 

Freedom  of  the  Will  153 


BEGINNINGS  OF  SCHOLASTICISM 

20.  DARK  AGES 155 

New  Peoples .  155 

Beginnings  of  Learning  . 157 

21.  SPIRIT  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 158 

Principle  of  Authority 158 

Problem  of  Scholasticism 159 

Characteristics  of  Scholasticism    .               161 

Stages  of  Scholasticism 162 

Sources  of  Scholasticism 163 

22.  JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA 164 

Faith  and  Knowledge 164 

Pantheism 164 

Mysticism 166 

23.  PROBLEM  OF  UNIVERSALS:  REALISM  AND  NOMINALISM    .       .       .166 

Early  Schoolmen 166 

Roscelin's  Nominalism 168 

Meaning  of  Realism 168 

DEVELOPMENT  OF  SCHOLASTIC  REALISM 

24.  ANSELM  OF  CANTERBURY 169 

His  Proofs  for  the  Existence  of  God 169 

Contemporaries 171 

25.  PETER  ABELABD  AND  THE  SCHOOLMEN  OF  THE  TWELFTH  CENTUBY  .  172 

Abelard 172 

The  School  of  Chartres 174 

The  Sentences 175 

John  of  Salisbury 175 


CONTENTS  vii 

PAOB 

26.  MYSTICISM  AND  PANTHEISM  .........     175 

Mysticism    ............     176 

Pantheism  ....       ........     177 

27.  SYMPTOMS  OP  UNREST      ..........     178 

Opposition  to  Scholasticism  ........     178 

Organization  of  Learning       .......  179 

Discovery  of  Aristotle     ........       .180 


CULMINATION  OF  SCHOLASTICISM 

28.  ABABIAN  PHILOSOPHY 181 

Greek  Sources 181 

Different  Schools 192 

Rationalists 184 

Downfall  of  Philosophy  in  the  East 185 

Spanish  School 186 

Jewish  Philosophy 188 

29.  PBEDOMINANCE  OF  ABISTOTLE 188 

Scholasticism  and  Aristotle    .       .       .       .       l.       .       .       .188 

Augustinian  Theology 189 

Albert  the  Great 190 

30.  THOMAS  AQUINAS 191 

Philosophy  and  Theology 191 

Theory  of  Knowledge 193 

Metaphysics 194 

Theology 195 

Psychology 196 

Ethics 198 

Politics 202 

Followers  of  Thomas 203 

31.  ANTI- SCHOLASTIC    TENDENCIES:    MYSTICISM,    PANTHEISM,    AND 

NATURAL  SCIENCE 203 

Mysticism    ...               203 

Logic 204 

Natural  Science 204 

Heresy 206 

Raymond  Lully 207 


DECLINE  OF  SCHOLASTICISM 

32.   JOHN  DUNS  SCOTUS 207 

Opposition  to  Thomas 207 

John  Duns  Scotus 208 

Faith  and  Knowledge 208 

Doctrine  of  Universals 209 

Theology 211 


Tiii  CONTENTS 

PAOB 

Psychology          , 212 

God  and  the  Moral  Law 212 

33.  NOMINALISM 214 

Rational  Theology  and  Universals 214 

William  of  Occam 215 

Nominalism  versus  Realism 217 

Followers  of  Occam 217 

34.  MYSTICISM 218 

Orthodox  and  Heretical  Mystics 218 

Meister  Eckhart 219 

35.  THE  PROGRESS  OF  FREE  THOUGHT 221 

Medieval  Rationalism 221 

Rise  of  Nationalism 222 

Heretical   Tendencies 224 

The  Spirit  of  Free  Inquiry 225 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

36.  THE  NEW  ENLIGHTENMENT 227 

Reason   and  Authority <  227 

Bibliography 228 

Humanism          228 

37.  NEW  PHILOSOPHIES 229 

Platonism 229 

Nicolas  of  Cusa 230 

The  True  Aristotle 231 

Reform  of  Science  and  Philosophy 232 

Reform  of  Logic 233 

38.  PHILOSOPHY  OF  NATURE  AND  NATURAL  SCIENCE      ....  233 

Occultism 233 

Paracelsus  234 

Philosophy  of  Nature 235 

Scientific   Movement 236 

39.  GIORDANO  BRUNO  AND  TOMMASO  CAMPANELLA 238 

Bruno 238 

Campanella         .      . 239 

40.  NEW  THEORIES  OF  THE  STATE;   PHILOSOPHY  OF  RELIGION;   AND 

SKEPTICISM 241 

Scholastic  Theory  of  the  State 241 

Machiavelli 241 

The  New  Politics 243 

Evolution  of  the  Modern  State 244 

The  New  Philosophy  of  Religion 245 

Skepticism 246 

41.  RELIGIOUS  REFORM 246 

Spirit  of  the  Reformation 246 


CONTENTS  ix 

PAOB 

Protestant  Scholasticism 247 

Mysticism  of  Jacob  Boehme  ........  248 

MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

42.  THE  SPIBIT  OF  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 250 

Characteristics  of  the  Modern  Era 250 

Bibliography .  252 

Empiricism  and  Rationalism 252 

ENGLISH  EMPIRICISM 

43.  FBANCTS  BACON 255 

Reform  of  Science 255 

Inductive  Method 257 

Program  of  Philosophy 260 

Philosophy  of  Man 260 

Metaphysics  and  Theology 262 

Bacon  as  an  Empiricist 263 

44.  THOMAS  HOBBES .  263 

Aim  and  Method 264 

Theory  of  Knowledge 265 

Metaphysics 267 

Psychology 268 

Politics 269 

CONTINENTAL  RATIONALISM 

45.  RENfi  DESCARTES 272 

The  Problem 272 

Classification  of  the  Sciences 274 

J    Method  and  Criterion  of  Knowledge 274 

Proofs  for  the  Existence  of  God 277 

Truth  and  Error 279 

External  World 279 

Mind  and  Body 281 

Emotions 284 

Innate  Ideas 286 

46.  SUCCESSORS  OF  DESCARTES 287 

The  Problems 287 

Occasionalism 288 

Arnold  Geulincx 289 

Idealism  (Nicolas  Malebranche) 289 

Mysticism   (Blaise  Pascal) 290 

Skepticism  (Pierre  Bayle) 291 

47.  BENEDICT  SPINOZA 292 

Rationalism 292 

Method  294 


CONTENTS 

Universal  Substance 295 

Attributes  of  God 296 

Doctrine  of  Modes 298 

The  Human  Mind 300 

Theory  of  Knowledge 302 

Intellect  and  Will 303 

Ethics  and  Politics 305 

Notion  of  God  .  307 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  EMPIRICISM 

48.  JOHN  LOCKE 307 

The  Problem 307 

Origin  of  Knowledge 309 

Nature  and  Validity  of  Knowledge 313 

Limits  of  Knowledge 315 

Metaphysics 318 

Ethics 322 

Free  Will 325 

Politics 326 

Education 328 

49.  SUCCESSOES  OF  LOCKE 329 

Influence  of  Locke 329 

Deists 330 

Psychology 330 

Ethics 332 

Political  Economy 334 

50.  GEORGE  BEBKELEY 335 

The  Problem 335 

Objects  of  Knowledge 336 

World  of  Bodies 337 

World  of  Spirits 339 

Objections   Answered 340 

Knowledge  of  Ideas,  Spirits,  and  Relations       ....  342 

Refutation  of  Dualism,  Atheism,  and  Skepticism           .        .  342 

51.  DAVID  HUME 345 

The  Problem 345 

Science  of  Human  Nature 346 

Origin  of  Knowledge .       .       .  347 

Cause  and  Effect 348 

Validity  of  Knowledge 352 

Knowledge  of  the  External  World 354 

Soul-Substance 355 

Freedom  and  Necessity 356 

God 357 

Anti-Intellectualism 361 


CONTENTS  xi 

PAGE 

62.  RATIONALISTIC  REACTION  IN  ENGLAND 362 

Cambridge  School 362 

Samuel  Clarke 362 

Scottish  Common-Sense  School  .363 

DEVELOPMENT  OF  RATIONALISM  IN  GERMANY 

53.  GOTTFBIED   WlLHELM   LEIBNIZ 364 

Rise  of  German  Culture 364 

The  Problem 365 

Notion  of  Force 367 

Doctrine  of  Monads 368 

Theology 373 

Ethics 375 

Logic  and  Theory  of  Knowledge 376 

54.  SUCCESSORS  OF  LEIBNIZ 380 

Philosophy  of  Common-Sense^i 380 

Mysticism    ....    ^r 381 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  ENLIGHTENMENT 

55.  PBOQBESS  OF  ENLIGHTENMENT 382 

Eighteenth    Century 382 

Voltaire 383 

The  Enlightenment  in  England 384 

The  German  Enlightenment 385 

Materialism  and  Evolutionism 386 

Sciences 388 

Jean  Jacques  Rousseau 389 

CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY  OF  IMMANUEL  KANT 

56.  IMMANUEL  KANT 391 

Progress  of  Modern  Philosophy 392 

Mysticism 393 

Problem  of  Kant 393 

Problem  of  Knowledge 397 

Theory  of  Sense-Perception 399 

Theory  of  the  Understanding 402 

Validity  of  Judgments 403 

Knowledge  of  Things-in-Themselves 406 

Impossibility  of  Metaphysics 408 

(a)  Rational  Psychology 410 

(6)  Rational  Cosmology 410 

(c)  Rational  Theology 415 

Use  of  Metaphysics  in  Experience 417 

Use  of  Teleology  in  Nature 420 

Practical  Use  of  Reason  and  Moral  Theology  .       .       .       .421 

Ethics                                               ...  422 


xii  CONTENTS 

PAOB 

57.   SUCCESSORS  OF  KANT 426 

The  Problems 426 

Idealism  and  the  Thing-in-Itself 427 

Critics  of  the  New  Philosophy  (Herder,  Jacobi,  Fries)    .        .  428 

GERMAN  IDEALISM 

68.  JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE .431 

Post-Kantian   Philosophy 431 

Fichte's  Principle 433 

Aim  and  Method  of  the  Science  of  Knowledge  .        .       .        .  435 

Knowledge   of  the  Ego 437 

The  External  World 440 

Objective   Idealism 441 

Moral  Philosophy 445 

69.  FBIEDBICH  WILHELM  SCHELLING 448 

The  New  Idealism  and  Romanticism 448 

Philosophy  of  Nature 450 

Philosophy  of  Mind 454 

Logic  and  Intuition 455 

60.  FBIEDBICH  SCHLEIEBMACHEB 458 

Philosophy  of  Religion 458 

Knowledge  and  Faith 459 

God,  the  World,  and  the  Individual 460 

61.  GEOBG  WILHELM  HEGEL 462 

Hegel  and  his  Predecessors 462 

Problem  of  Philosophy 464 

Dialectical  Method 467 

Thought  and  Being 469 

Logic  and  Metaphysics 471 

Philosophy  of  Nature  and  Philosophy  of  Mind       .        .        .  472 

Philosophy  of  Right 474 

Art,  Religion,  and  Philosophy 476 

Hegelian    Schools .        .476 

GERMAN  PHILOSOPHY  AFTER  HEGEL 

62.  REALISM  OF  JOHANN  FRIEDRICH  HEBBABT 478 

Opposition  to  Hegelianism 478 

Realistic  Ideal  of  Philosophy 479 

Metaphysics 480 

Psychology 482 

Science  of  Values 484 

F.  H.  Beneke 485 

63.  PHILOSOPHY  OF  WILL:  SCHOPENHAUEB  AND  HABTMANN  .       .       .  485 

A.  Schopenhauer 485 

The  World  as  Will  and  Idea  486 


CONTENTS  xiii 

PAGE 

Will  in  Nature  and  in  Man 486 

Ethics  of  Pity 488 

Philosophy  of  the  Unconscious  (E.  von  Hartmann)        .       .  490 

(54.   NEOKANTIANISM 491 

Reaction  against  Speculative  Philosophy 491 

Materialism 492 

Revival  of  Criticism 493 

Immanent  Philosophy 494 

Theological  Neokantians 494 

65.  THE  NEW  IDEALISM .  494 

Metaphysics  and  Natural  Science       .       .       .       .       .       .  494 

Hermann  Lotze 495 

Mechanism  and  Teleology 495 

Gustav  Theodor  Fechner 498 

Friedrich  Paulsen 498 

Wilhelm  Wundt 498 

Philosophy  of  Value 500 

Wilhelm  Windelband 500 

H.  Rickert,  H.  Miinsterberg,  W.  Dilthey 501 

Rudolph  Eucken 502 

PHILOSOPHY  IN  FRANCE  AND  ENGLAND 

66.  POSITIVISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  IN  FRANCE 503 

Reaction  against  Sensationalism <  .       .  503 

Saint-Simon 504 

Auguste  Comte i  505 

Reform  of  Society  and  the  Sciences o6d 

Evolution  of  Knowledge 507 

Classification  of  the  Sciences 508 

Social  Science 509 

Ethics  and  the  Religion  of  Humanity 510 

Idealistic  Opposition  to  Positivism 511 

C.  Renouvier 511 

A.  Fouillee 512 

67.  SCOTTISH  RATIONALISTIC  PHILOSOPHY 513 

William  Whewell 513 

Sir  William  Hamilton 514 

68.  EMPIBICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL 516 

Empiricism  and  Positivism 516 

Science  and  Social  Reform 518 

'  Logic 519 

Inductive  Inference 519 

Warrant  of  Induction 520 

Law  of  Causation 521 

A  priori  Truths 524 

The  External  World  and  the  Self  526 


xiv  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Mental  and  Moral  Sciences 527 

Ethology 529 

Social  Science 529 

Ethics 532 

69.  EVOLUTIONISM  OF  HEBBEBT  SPENCER 535 

Ideal  of  Knowledge 535 

Relativity  of  Knowledge 537 

Persistence  of  Force 539 

Mind  and  Matter 540 

Law  of  Evolution 541 

Biology 542 

Psychology 543 

The  External  World 544 

Ethics 545 

Politics 647 

70.  NEW  IDEALISM  IN  ENGLAND  AND  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES      .       .  549 

Influence  of  German  Idealism 549 

Thomas  Hill  Green 550 

Metaphysics 551 

Man's  Place  in  Nature 552 

Ethics          .        .        .        . 553 

F.  H.  Bradley 555 

Metaphysics 555 

Immediate  Feeling  and  Thought 557 

The  Absolute 558 

Josiah  Royce 559 

Contemporary  Idealists 562 

CONTEMPORARY  REACTION  AGAINST  RATIONALISM  AND 
IDEALISM 

New  Tendencies 562 

71.  THE  NEW  POSITIVISTIC  THEOBY  OF  KNOWLEDGE      ....  564 

Ernst  Mach 564 

R.  Avenarius 568 

72.  PRAGMATISM 566 

William  James 566 

John  Dewey 571 

Other  Pragmatists 574 

^    Friedrich  Nietzsche 574 

73.  THE  INTUTTIONISM  OF  HENRI  BERGSON 577 

Intellect  and  Intuition 577 

Metaphysics 679 

74.  REALISTIC  REACTION  AGAINST  IDEALISM 580 

The  Neo-Realists 580 

75.  RATIONALISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS 382 

Merits  of  Anti-Intellectualism •  581 


CONTEXTS  xv 

PAGE 

Appeal  to  Reason 583 

Intelligence  and  Reality 584 

Aim  of  Philosophy 586 

The  Block-Universe -587 

Intellect  and  Intuition 588 

Conclusion 589 

693 


A  HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

INTRODUCTION 

The  history  of  philosophy  aims  to  give  a  connected  account 
of  the  different  attempts  which  have  been  made  to  solve  the 
problem  of  existence  or  to  render  intelligible  to  us  our  world 
of  experience.  It  is  the  story  of  the  development  of  rea- 
soned human  thought  from  its  earliest  beginnings  down  to 
the  present  time;  not  a  mere  chronological  enumeration  and 
exposition  of  philosophical  theories,  but  a  study  of  these  in  their 
relation  to  one  another,  the  times  in  which  they  are  produced, 
and  the  thinkers  by  whom  they  are  offered.  While  every  system 
of  thought  is  more  or  less  dependent  on  the  civilization  in  which 
it  arises,  the  character  of  preceding  systems,  and  the  personality 
of  its  author,  it  in  turn  exercises  a  potent  influence  on  the  con- 
ceptions and  institutions  of  its  own  and  succeeding  ages.  The 
history  of  philosophy  must,  therefore,  endeavor  to  insert  each 
world-view  in  its  proper  setting,  to  understand  it  as  a  part  of 
an  organic  whole,  to  connect  it  with  the  intellectual,  political, 
moral,  social,  and  religious  factors  of  its  present,  past,  and 
future.  It  must  also  attempt  to  trace  the  line  of  progress  in 
the  history  of  human  speculation:  show  how  the  mental  atti- 
tude called  philosophy  arises,  how  the  different  problems  and  the 
solutions  that  are  offered  provoke  new  questions  and  answers,  and 
what  advance  has  been  made,  on  the  different  stages,  towards 
reaching  the  goal. 

In  dealing  with  the  different  systems,  we  shall  be  careful  to 
let  the  authors  present  their  ideas  without  extensive  criticism 
on  our  part.  It  will  be  found  that  the  history  of  philosophy  is, 
in  a  large  measure,  its  own  best  critic;  that  a  system  is  con- 
tinued, transformed,  supplemented,  or  overcome  by  its  successors, 
that  the  errors  and  inconsistencies  contained  in  it  are  brought 
to  light ;  and  that  it  is  often  made  the  starting-point  of  new  lines 


2  INTRODUCTION 

of  thought.  The  historian  should  assume  an  impartial  and 
objective  attitude  in  his  study,  and,  so  far  as  he  can,  guard 
against  obtruding  his  own  philosophical  theories  into  the  dis- 
cussions. It  will,  however,  be  impossible  to  eliminate  the  personal 
element  altogether;  to  some  extent  the  historian's  preconcep- 
tions are  bound  to  shine  through  his  work.  They  will  manifest 
themselves  in  many  ways:  in  the  emphasis  which  he  lays  on 
particular  philosophies,  in  his  notion  of  what  constitutes  prog- 
ress and  decline, — even  in  the  amount  of  space  devoted  to 
different  thinkers.  All  this  is  unavoidable.  The  philosopher, 
however,  should  be  permitted  to  tell  his  own  story  without  being 
interrupted  by  constant  objections  before  he  has  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  stating  his  case  completely.  And  we  should  not  criti- 
cise a  system  solely  in  the  light  of  present  achievement,  that  is, 
measure  it  by  present  standards  to  its  hurt.  Compared  with 
modern  theories,  the  early  Greek  world-views  seem  naive,  child- 
ish, and  crude,  and  it  would  be  no  great  mark  of  intelligence 
to  ridicule  them ;  whereas,  regarded  from  the  standpoint  of  their 
times,  as  the  first  efforts  of  a  people  to  understand  the  world, 
they  may  well  stand  out  as  epoch-making  events.  A  system  of 
thought  must  be  judged  in  the  light  of  its  own  aims  and  historical 
setting,  by  comparison  with  the  systems  immediately  preceding 
and  following  it,  by  its  antecedents  and  results,  by  the  develop- 
ment to  which  it  leads.  Our  method  of  study  will,  therefore,  be 
historico-critical. 

The  value  of  the  study  of  the  history  of  philosophy  ought  to 
be  apparent.  Intelligent  persons  are  interested  in  the  funda- 
mental problems  of  existence  and  in  the  answers  which  the  human 
race  has  sought  to  find  for  them  on  the  various  stages  of  civiliza- 
tion. Besides,  such  a  study  helps  men  to  understand  their  own 
and  other  times;  it  throws  light  on  the  ethical,  religious, 
political,  legal,  and  economic  conceptions  of  the  past  and  the 
present,  by  revealing  the  underlying  principles  on  which 
these  are  based.  It  likewise  serves  as  a  useful  preparation  for 
philosophical  speculation;  passing,  as  it  does,  from  the  simpler 
to  the  more  complex  and  difficult  constructions  of  thought,  it 
reviews  the  philosophical  experience  of  the  race  and  trains  the 
mind  in  abstract  thinking.  In  this  way  we  are  aided  in  working 
out  our  own  views  of  the  world  and  of  life.  The  man  who  tries 


INTRODUCTION  3 

to  construct  a  system  of  philosophy  in  absolute  independence 
of  the  work  of  his  predecessors  cannot  hope  to  rise  very  far 
beyond  the  crude  theories  of  the  beginnings  of  civilization. 

Science  and  philosophy  may  be  said  to  have  had  their  origin 
in  religion,  or  rather,  originally  science,  philosophy,  and  reli- 
gion were  one :  mythology  is  the  primitive  attempt  to  understand 
the  world.  Man  at  first  interprets  the  phenomena  which,  for 
some  reason  or  other,  largely  practical,  attract  his  attention, 
according  to  his  crude  experiences.  He  projects  his  own  nature 
into  them,  fashions  them  after  his  own  image,  animates  them, 
regards  them  as  somehow  alive  and  ' '  ensouled. ' '  Among  many 
peoples,  such  vague  and  indefinite  animistic  notions  are  trans- 
formed into  clear  and  distinct  conceptions  of  personalities, — 
of  a  higher  order  than  human  beings,  but  yet  essentially  resem- 
bling human  beings  (polytheism).  None  of  these  mythological 
creations,  however,  can  be  regarded  as  the  work  of  single  indi- 
viduals or  as  the  product  of  logical  thought ;  they  are  expressions 
of  the  collective  soul,  in  which  imagination  and  will  play  the 
most  important  role. 

A  universal  history  of  philosophy  would  include  the  philoso- 
phies of  all  peoples.  Not  all  peoples,  however,  have  produced 
real  systems  of  thought,  and  the  speculations  of  only  a  few  can 
be  said  to  have  had  a  history.  Many  do  not  rise  beyond  the 
mythological  stage.  Even  the  theories  of  Oriental  peoples,  the 
Hindus,  Egyptians,  Chinese,  consist,  in  the  main,  of  mythological 
and  ethical  doctrines,  and  are  not  thoroughgoing  systems  of 
thought :  they  are  shot  through  with  poetry  and  faith.  We  shall, 
therefore,  limit  ourselves  to  the  study  of  the  Western  countries, 
and  begin  with  the  philosophy  of  the  ancient  Greeks,  on  whose 
culture  our  own  civilization,  in  part,  rests.  We  shall  follow  the 
customary  classification  of  universal  history  and  divide  our  field 
into  Ancient  Philosophy,  Medieval  or  Christian  Philosophy,  and 
Modern  Philosophy. 

The  sources  of  our  study  will  be  (1)  the  works  of  the  philoso- 
phers or  the  fragments  of  their  writings,  in  cases  where  only 
the  latter  are  extant:  primary  sources.  (2)  In  the  absence  of 
either  of  these,  we  have  to  depend,  for  our  knowledge  of  their 
teachings,  on  the  most  trustworthy  and  accurate  accounts  of 
them  by  others.  Among  the  sources  which  will  help  us  here  are 


4  INTRODUCTION 

expositions  of  the  lives  and  doctrines  of  particular  philosophers, 
general  and  special  treatises  on  the  history  of  philosophy,  criti- 
cisms of  certain  teachings,  and  references  to  them  in  various 
books.  Such  secondary  sources  are  indispensable  where  the 
primary  sources  have  disappeared.  But  even  when  this  is  not 
the  case,  the  secondary  sources  are  of  great  value  in  so  far 
as  they  may  throw  light  on  the  systems  with  which  they  deal. 
The  historian  of  philosophy  will  seek  help  from  all  works  that 
contribute  to  our  knowledge  of  the  subject,  and  among  these  the 
secondary  sources  play  an  important  part.  He  will  also  appeal 
to  whatever  fields  of  research  may  give  him  an  understanding 
of  the  spirit  of  the  times  under  examination:  to  the  history  of 
all  human  activities,  such  as  science,  literature,  art,  morals, 
education,  politics,  and  religion. 


Works  on  the  history  of  philosophy  (including  ancient,  medieval, 
and  modern).  Introductory:  K.  Fischer,  History  of  Modern  Philoso- 
phy, vol.  I,  Book  I,  transl.  by  Gordy;  B.  D.  Alexander,  A  Short 
History  of  Philosophy;  Weber,  History  of  Philosophy,  transl.  by 
Thilly;  Schwegler,  History  of  Philosophy,  transl.  by  Seelye;  A.  K. 
Rogers,  A  Student's  History  of  Philosophy;  Windelband,  History  of 
Philosophy,  transl.  by  Tufts;  Turner,  History  of  Philosophy;  Stockl, 
Handbook  of  the  History  of  Philosophy,  transl.  by  Coffey;  Ciishman, 
History  of  Philosophy.  See  also :  J.  B.  Bury,  History  of  the  Freedom 
of  Thought;  J.  M.  Robertson,  Short  History  of  Free  Thought,  2  vols. 

More  advanced  works :  J.  E.  Erdmann,  History  of  Philosophy,  3  vols., 
transl.  by  Hough ;  Ueberweg,  History  of  Philosophy,  3  vols.,  transl.  by 
Morris  (from  the  German  ed.  of  1874,  which  has  been  frequently 
revised  and  supplemented  by  M.  Heinze  and  is  now  in  its  10th  ed.) ; 
Hegel,  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy,  3  vols.,  transl.  by  Hal- 
dane;  Allgemeine  Geschichte  der  Philosophic  (prepared  by  a  number 
of  German  scholars  for  the  series  Kultur  der  Gegenwart;  contains 
also  sections  on  primitive  philosophy,  Hindu,  Mohammedan  and  Jewish, 
Chinese,  and  Japanese  philosophy) ;  Deussen,  Allgemeine  Geschichte 
der  Philosophic,  vol.  I  (three  parts)  contains  Oriental  philosophy; 
vol.  II,  Greek  philosophy  and  philosophy  of  the  Bible;  Grosse  Denker, 
by  many  German  scholars;  Schwarz,  Der  Gottesgedanke  in  der 
Philosophic. 

Histories  of  special  subjects :  Lange,  History  of  Materialism,  3  vols., 
transl.  by  Thomas;  Lasswitz,  Geschichte  der  Atomistik;  Willmann, 
Geschichte  des  Idealismus,  3  vols.;  R.  Richter,  Der  Skeptizismus  in 
der  Philosophic,  2  vols.  Logic:  Prantl,  Geschichte  der  Logik,  4  vols.; 
Uphues,  Geschichte  der  Philosophic  als  Erkenntniskritik;  Adamson, 
Short  History  of  Logic.  Psychology :  Dessoir,  Outlines  of  the  History 
of  Psychology,  transl.  by  Fisher;  Klemm,  History  of  Psychology,  transl. 
by  Wilm;  J.  M.  Baldwin,  History  of  Psychology,  2  vols.;  Bosanquet, 


INTRODUCTION  5 

History  of  Esthetics;  Schasler,  Kritische  Geschichte  der  Aesthetik. 
Ethics :  Paulsen,  System  of  Ethics,  ed.  and  transl.  by  Thilly,  pp.  33-215 ; 
Eucken,  Problem  of  Human  Life,  transl.  by  Hough  and  Boyce  Gibson ; 
Sidgwick,  History  of  Ethics;  R.  A.  P.  Rogers,  Short  History  of  Ethics; 
Wundt,  Ethics,  vol.  II;  Martineau,  Types  of  Ethical  Theory,  2  vols. 
(Hyslop,  Elements  of  Ethics,  Seth,  Study  of  Ethical  Principles,  Thilly, 
Introduction  to  Ethics,  contain  historical  material.)  Rand,  Classical 
Moralists  (selections  from  writers) ;  Watson,  Hedonistic  Theories  from 
Aristippus  to  Spencer;  Janet,  Histoire  de  la  philosophic  morale  et 
politique.  Politics:  Pollock,  History  of  the  Science  of  Politics;  Dun- 
ning, History  of  Political  Theories;  Bluntschli,  Geschichte  des  allge- 
meinen  Staatsrechts.  Education :  P.  Munroe,  Text-book  in  the  History 
of  Education;  Graves,  History  of  Education,  3  vols.;  Davidson,  His- 
tory of  Education;  Williams,  History  of  Education;  Schmid,  Geschichte 
der  Erziehung.  Science:  Whewell,  History  of  Inductive  Sciences,  3 
vols.;  Bryk,  Geschichte  der  Naturwissenschaften;  German  works  by 
Strunz,  Bryk,  Schultze;  H.  F.  Osborn,  From  the  Greeks  to  Darwin; 
Hannequin,  Etudes  d'histoire  des  sciences;  histories  of  mathematics  by 
Cajori,  Ball,  Cantor,  Montucla,  Chasles;  of  chemistry  by  Kopp;  of 
astronomy  by  Berry,  Dreyer,  Wolf,  Delambre. 

Dictionaries  of  philosophy :  Baldwin,  2  vols. ;  German  works  by 
Eisler,  Mauthner,  Kirchner;  Eisler,  Philosophen-Lexikon.  Consult 
also  articles  in  encyclopedias,  especially  Encyclopedia  Britannica, 
Hastings,  Encyclopedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  Catholic  Encyclopedia, 
Jewish  Encyclopedia,  P.  Munroe,  Cyclopedia  of  Education. 

Bibliographies  in  Rand,  Bibliography  of  Philosophy;  Baldwin,  Dic- 
tionary of  Philosophy,  vol.  Ill ;  Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  cit.,  10th  German 
ed.  Complete  bibliographies  of  books  published  since  1895  in  Archiv 
fur  systematische  Philosophie;  since  1908  in  Ruge,  Philosophic  der 
Gegenwart. 

Philosophical  journals:  Philosophical  Review,  International  Journal 
of  Ethics,  Journal  of  Philosophy,  Psychology,  and  Sc.  Methods,  Monist, 
Mind,  Proceedings  of  Aristotelian  Society,  Archiv  fur  Philosophie, 
Kant-Studien,  Zeitschrift  fur  Philosophic,  Vierteljahresschrift  fur  wiss. 
Philosophie,  Zeitschrift  fur  positivistische  Philosophie,  Philosophisches 
Jahrbuch,  Jahrbuch  fur  Philosophie,  Logos,  Revue  philosophique, 
Revue  de  metaphysique  et  de  morale,  Revue  de  philosophic,  Annee 
philosophique,  Revue  des  sciences  philosophiques  et  theologiques,  Revue 
neoscolastiques,  Revue  thomiste,  Annales  de  philosophic  chretienne, 
Rivista  di  filosofia,  Rivista  filosofica,  Rivista  di  filosofia  e  scienze  afflni, 
La  cultura  filosofica,  Rivista  neoscolastica. 

Psychological  journals:  Psychological  Review,  American  Journal 
of  Psychology,  British  Journal  of  Psychology,  Archiv  fur  Psychologic, 
Psychologische  Studien,  Zeitschrift  fur  Psychologic,  Archives  de  psy- 
chologic, La  revue  psychologique,  Annee  psychologique,  Rivista  di 
psicologia,  Annales  di  psicologia. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  NATURE 
1.   ORIGIN  AND  DEVELOPMENT  OF  EARLY  GREEK  THOUGHT 

Few  of  the  ancient  peoples  advanced  far  beyond  the  mytho- 
logical stage,  and  perhaps  none  of  them  can  be  said  to 
have  developed  a  genuine  philosophy  except  the 
Greeks.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  we  begin  our  ac-  History  of 
count  with  them.  They  not  only  laid  the  founda- 
tions  upon  which  all  subsequent  systems  of  Western 
thought  have  been  reared,  but  formulated  nearly  all  the  prob- 
lems and  suggested  nearly  all  the  answers  with  which  European 
civilization  occupied  itself  for  two  thousand  years.  Their 
philosophy  is  one  of  the  best  examples  of  the  evolution  of 
human  thinking  from  simple  mythological  beginnings  to  complex 
and  comprehensive  systems  that  any  people  has  furnished.  The 
spirit  of  independence  and  the  love  of  truth  which  animate  their 
thinkers  have  never  been  surpassed  and  rarely  equaled.  For 
these  reasons  the  study  of  Greek  philosophy  ought  to  be  an 
attractive  and  valuable  discipline  to  the  student  interested  in 
higher  speculative  thought. 

By  the  history  of  Greek  philosophy  we  mean  the  intellectual 
movement  which  originated  and  developed  in  the  Hellenic  world. 
We  shall  include  in  it,  however,  not  only  the  systems  of  the 
Greeks  themselves,  but  also  those  which  exhibit  the  essential 
features  of  Greek  thinking  and  which  are  manifestly  the  prod- 
ucts of  Hellenic  civilization,  whether  they  flourish  at  Athens, 
Rome,  Alexandria,  or  in  Asia  Minor. 

The  people  whose  philosophy  we  are  to  study  inhabited  the 
mountain  peninsula  of  Greece,  a  territory  whose  natural  char- 
acteristics were  favorable  to  the  production  of  a  _  . 

Environment 
strong  and  active  race,  and  whose  many  harbors, 

while    encouraging   navigation    and    commerce,    furnished   an 

7 


8  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

outlet  for  emigration  over  the  islands  to  the  lands  beyond. 
Greek  colonies  were  established  in  an  unbroken  chain  from  the 
mainland  to  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor  and,  eventually,  to  Egypt, 
Sicily,  Southern  Italy,  and  the  Pillars  of  Hercules;  without 
losing  touch  with  the  mother  country,  these  colonies  enjoyed  the 
benefits  which  active  contact  with  peoples  of  different  customs, 
traditions,  and  institutions  is  apt  to  bring.  The  wonderful 
economic  progress  resulting  from  such  conditions,  the  develop- 
ment of  commerce,  industry,  and  trade,  the  rise  of  cities,  the 
accumulation  of  wealth,  and  the  increasing  division  of  labor 
exercised  a  profound  influence  on  the  social,  political,  intellectual, 
and  religious  life  of  the  entire  Greek  world  and  opened  the  way 
to  a  new  and  richer  civilization.  This  physical  and  human  envi- 
ronment helped  to  stimulate  both  intellect  and  will ;  it  gave  men 
a  broader  outlook  upon  life  and  the  world,  quickened  the  spirit 
of  criticism  and  reflection,  led  to  the  development  of  unique 
personalities,  and  made  possible  a  varied  progress  along  all  lines 
of  human  thought  and  action.  To  a  people  naturally  endowed 
with  keen  and  quick  intelligence,  a  burning  thirst  for  knowledge, 
a  fine  sense  of  beauty,  and  practical  energy  and  ambition,  it  sup- 
plied the  materials  upon  which  to  try  its  powers  and  talents; 
and  enabled  it  to  make  rapid  progress  in  the  field  of  politics, 
religion,  morals,  literature,  and  philosophy. 

The  political  fortunes  of  the  Hellenic  city-states,  on  the  main- 
land and  in  the  colonies,  exhibit  certain  common  characteristics : 
everywhere  we  find  an  evolution  from  the  patri- 
archal monarchy  through  the  aristocracy  to  democ- 
racy. The  society  described  by  the  Homeric  epics  is  a  caste  so- 
ciety and  the  form  of  government  a  patriarchal  monarchy.  The 
acquisition  of  wealth  and  culture  by  the  few  leads  to  the  establish- 
ment of  aristocratic  forms  of  government  and,  as  time  goes  on,  to 
the  rise  of  oligarchies.  With  changing  social  conditions,  a  citizen 
class  (the  Demos)  arises  and  begins  to  dispute  the  leadership 
of  the  privileged  class;  and  through  the  efforts  of  bold  and 
ambitious  men,  who  wrest  the  power  from  the  lords,  "  tyrannies  " 
are  established  throughout  the  Hellenic  world,  during  the 
seventh  and  sixth  centuries  B.C.  In  the  end,  the  people  them- 
selves assume  the  reins  of  government,  and  the  tyranny  gives 
way  to  the  democracy. 


EARLY  GREEK  THOUGHT  9 

We  may  view  these  conditions  as  the  result  of  the  awakening 
of  the  Greek  consciousness.  The  new  movement  is  both  a  symp- 
tom and  a  cause  of  enlightenment :  it  is  the  outward  . 

„     ..  ,      .,.  .  ,.     Literature 

sign  of  growing  reflection  and  criticism  of  the  tradi- 
tional; it  issues  in  a  protest  against  the  old  institutions  and 
in  a  demand  for  reform.  The  history  of  Greek  literature  before 
the  sixth  century  B.C.  reveals  the  development  of  a  spirit  of 
reflection  and  criticism  similar  to  that  expressing  itself  in 
political  life.  The  Homeric  cheerfulness  and  objectivity,  char- 
acteristic of  the  naivete  of  childhood,  gradually  disappear;  the 
poets  become  less  optimistic,  more  critical  and  subjective.  Al- 
ready in  Homer  we  find  occasional  moral  reflections  on  the 
behavior  of  men,  the  foolishness  of  mortals,  the  misery  and 
transitoriness  of  life,  and  the  wickedness  of  injustice.  In  Hesiod 
the  note  of  criticism  and  pessimism  grows  louder;  his  Works 
and  Days  is  a  moral  handbook  that  attacks  the  foibles  of  the 
age  and  offers  moral  maxims  and  practical  rules  of  life,  praising 
the  home-spun  virtues  and  lamenting  the  decline  of  the  good 
old  days.  In  mournful  and  satiric  strain,  poets  of  the  seventh 
century  (Alcaeus,  Simonides,  Archilochus)  decry  the  rise  of 
the  tyrannis  and  deplore  the  weakness  of  men,  urging  them, 
however,  to  bear  their  lot  bravely  and  to  leave  the  outcome 
to  the  gods.  The  didactic  and  pessimistic  spirit  is  still  more 
marked  in  the  poetry  of  the  sixth  century ;  the  political  fortunes 
of  the  people  are  made  the  subject  of  discussion,  and  the  new 
order  of  things  is  condemned,  often  with  great  bitterness.  To 
this  period  belong  the  fable-writer  JSsop  and  the  so-called 
gnomic  poets  (Solon,  Phocylides,  Theognis),  whose  wise  maxims 
embodying  ethical  reflections  may  be  characterized  as  an  em- 
bryonic moral  philosophy.  The  truth  is,  the  individual  is  begin- 
ning to  analyze  and  criticise  life, — not  merely  living  it,  but 
pondering  on  it; — he  is  no  longer  content  to  give  voice  to  the 
customary  conceptions  and  ideals  of  his  race,  but  is  prompted 
to  set  forth  his  own  personal  ethical,  political,  and  religious 
thoughts  and  yearnings.  Eventually,  this  spirit  of  inquiry  and 
discontent,  which  results  from  larger  and  more  complex  experi- 
ences, leads  to  a  philosophical  study  of  human  conduct  in  the 
form  of  theories  of  ethics  and  politics. 

The  religious  development  follows  along  similar  lines.    Origi- 


10  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

nally  a  form  of  nature-worship,  the  Greek  religion  develops 
into  polytheism  and  creates  a  society  of  gods  peopled  by  the 
imagination  of  the  poets  with  a  galaxy  of  superior 
beings,  who  lead  a  historical  life.  In  this  field,  too, 
the  spirit  of  reflection  and  criticism  does  its  work  and  helps  to 
make  religion  ethical  and  rational.  Reflection  on  the  character 
and  conduct  of  the  gods,  as  portrayed  by  Homer,  and  the  re- 
finement of  the  moral  consciousness  bring  about  a  purer  con- 
ception of  Olympus:  with  the  progress  of  civilization  the  gods 
themselves  become  moral  and  Zeus  is  conceived  as  the  ethical 
head  of  the  divine  social  order,  the  protector  of  right  on  earth 
and  in  heaven. 

The  metaphysical  need,  on  the  other  hand,  finds  expression 
in  theories  of  the  gods,  their  origin  and  relation  to  one  another 
and  the  world.  Men  begin  to  think  about  the  traditional 
mythology,  asking  themselves  how  such  gods  arose ;  they  attempt, 
in  a  crude  way,  to  account  for  things,  using  the  traditional 
mythology  as  the  basis  of  their  speculations.  The  oldest  example 
of  such  a  primitive  genealogy  of  the  gods,  or  theogony,  is  the 
Theogony  of  Hesiod.  To  the  same  class  of  literature  belong 
the  theogony  of  Pherecydes  of  Syros  (540  B.C.)  and  the  Orphic 
cosmogonies,  which,  perhaps,  rest  on  an  older  theogony  (per- 
haps of  the  sixth  century  B.C.),  but  in  their  present  form  do 
not  date  back  farther  than  the  first  century  B.C.  According  to 
the  Theogony  of  Hesiod,  Chaos  first  arose,  then  Gaia  (the  earth), 
then  Eros  (love).  Out  of  Chaos  came  Erebos  (darkness)  and 
Nux  (night)  and  from  the  union  of  the  two,  JSther  (light)  and 
Hemera  (day).  The  earth  brings  forth  the  sea  and,  in  union 
with  the  heaven  (Uranos),  the  rivers.  From  the  seed  of  Uranos 
springs  Aphrodite  (love) ;  that  is,  the  rains  from  heaven  cause 
life  to  germinate  in  nature.  The  attempt  is  here  made  to 
explain  the  origin  of  things,  not  in  a  scientific  and  logical  man- 
ner, as  we  understand  these  terms,  but  with  the  aid  of  the  poetic 
imagination  and  the  popular  mythology.  The  poet  asks  himself 
how  the  things  and  the  occurrences  around  him  came  about,  and 
accounts  for  them,  in  terms  of  simple  every-day  experiences,  as 
the  effects  of  generation  or  human  volition :  Darkness  and  Night 
together  generate  the  Day ;  the  Earth  fructified  by  Heaven  gives 
birth  to  the  rivers. 


EARLY  GREEK  THOUGHT  11 

Theogonies,  though  not  philosophy,  are  a  preparation  for 
philosophy.  Already  in  the  mythological  notions  there  is  present 
a  germ  of  philosophical  thought,  a  desire  for  some 
kind  of  explanation,  even  though  the  demand  is 
rooted  in  the  will  and  easily  satisfied  by  pictures  of  the  imagi- 
nation. The  theogonies  and  cosmogonies  represent  an  advance 
over  the  mythologies;  they  are  an  attempt  to  rationalize  the 
mythical  world  and  to  explain  the  origin  of  the  beings  supposed 
to  govern  occurrences  in  nature  and  events  in  the  life  of  man. 
These  theories,  however,  are  still,  in  a  large  measure,  such  as 
satisfy  the  poetical  imagination  rather  than  the  logical  intellect, 
and  they  appeal  to  supernatural  forces  and  agencies  rather  than 
to  natural  causes.  Philosophy  arises  when  fancy  is  superseded 
by  reason,  imagination  by  intellect;  when  the  supernatural 
agencies  are  abandoned,  as  principles  of  explanation,  and  facts 
of  experience  made  the  basis  of  investigation  and  explanation. 
It  is  an  effort  to  account  for  things  and  occurrences  in  a  more 
or  less  impartial  and  unprejudiced  way,  independently  of  the 
popular  mythology,  and  unhampered  by  immediate  practical 
needs.  Appearing  in  Greece  during  the  sixth  century  B.C.,  in 
an  age  of  enlightenment,  it  is  the  natural  outcome  of  the  spirit 
of  inquiry  which  we  have  described  and  which  expressed  itself 
in  all  the  forms  of  Greek  mental  life. 

Gomperz,  The  Greek  Thinkers,  vol.  I;  Zeller,  Outlines  of  the  His- 
tory of  Greek  Philosophy,  and  Philosophy  of  the  Greeks,  vol.  I; 
Encyclopedia  Britannica,  articles  under  Greece,  Greek  Art,  Literature, 
Religion,  etc. 

Greek  philosophy  begins  with  an  inquiry  into  the  essence  of 
the  objective  world.  It  is,  at  first,  largely  interested  in  external 
nature  (philosophy  of  nature),  and  only  gradually 
turns  its  eye  inward,  on  man  himself,  or  becomes  Survey  of 
humanistic.  The  first  great  problem  is:  What  is 
nature  and,  therefore,  man?  the  second:  What  is 
man  and,  therefore,  nature?  The  shifting  of  the  interest  from 
nature  to  man  leads  to  the  study  of  human-mental  problems: 
the  study  of  the  human  mind  and  human  conduct,  the  study 
of  logic,  ethics,  psychology,  politics,  poetics.  The  attention  is 
next  centered,  more  particularly,  upon  the  ethical  problem :  What 


12  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

is  the  highest  good,  what  is  the  end  and  aim  of  life?  Ethics  is 
made  the  main  issue ;  logic  and  metaphysics  are  studied  as  aids 
to  the  solution  of  the  moral  question.  Finally,  the  problem  of 
God  and  man's  relation  to  him,  the  theological  problem,  is  pushed 
into  the  foreground,  and  Greek  philosophy  ends,  as  it  began, 
in  religion. 

(1)  The  first  great  problem  was  taken  up  in  what  we  may 
call  the  Pre-Sophistic  period,  which  extends,  let  us  say,  from 
about  585  to  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century  B.C.     The  earliest 
Greek  philosophy  is  naturalistic:  its  attention  is   directed  to 
nature ;  it  is  mostly  hylozoistic :  it  conceives  nature  as  animated 
or  alive ;  it  is  ontological :  it  inquires  into  the  essence  of  things ; 
it  is  mainly  monistic :  it  seeks  to  explain  its  phenomena  by  means 
of  a  single  principle ;  it  is  dogmatic :  it  naively  presupposes  the 
competency  of  the  human  mind  to  solve  the  world-problem.    The 
scene  of  the  philosophy  of  this  period  is  the  colonial  world; 
it  flourishes  in  Ionia,  Southern  Italy,  and  Sicily. 

(2)  The  period  of  the  Sophists,  who  belong  to  the  fifth  cen- 
tury, is  a  period  of  transition.    It  shows  a  growing  distrust  of 
the  power  of  the  human  mind  to  solve  the  world-problem  and 
a  corresponding  lack  of  faith  in  traditional  conceptions   and 
institutions.    This  movement  is  skeptical,  radical,  revolutionary, 
indifferent  or  antagonistic  to  metaphysical  speculation;  in  call- 
ing attention  to  the  problem  of  man,  however,  it  makes  neces- 
sary a  more  thorough  examination  of  the  problem  of  knowledge 
and  the  problem  of  conduct,  and  ushers  in  the  Socratic  period. 
Athens  is  the  home  of  this  new  enlightenment  and  of  the  great 
schools  of  philosophy  growing  out  of  it. 

(3)  The  Socratic  period,  which  extends  from  430  to  320  B.C., 
is    a    period    of   reconstruction.     Socrates    defends    knowledge 
against  the  assaults  of  skepticism,  and  shows  how  truth  may  be 
reached  by  the  employment  of  a  logical  method.    He  also  paves 
the  way  for  a  science  of  ethics  by  his  efforts  to  define  the  mean- 
ing of  the  good.    Plato  and  Aristotle  build  upon  the  foundations 
laid  by  the  master  and  construct  rational  theories  of  knowledge 
(logic),  conduct  (ethics),  and  the  State  (politics).    They  like- 
wise work  out  comprehensive  systems  of  thought  (metaphysics), 
and  interpret  the  universe  in  terms  of  mind,  or  reason,  or  spirit. 
We  may,  therefore,  characterize  this  philosophy  as  critical:  it 


EARLY  GREEK  THOUGHT  13 

investigates  the  principles  of  knowledge;  as  rationalistic:  it  ac- 
cepts the  competence  of  reason  in  the  search  after  truth;  as 
humanistic:  it  studies  man;  as  spiritualistic  or  idealistic:  it 
makes  mind  the  chief  factor  in  the  explanation  of  reality.  It  is 
dualistic  in  the  sense  that  it  recognizes  matter  as  a  secondary 
factor. 

(4)  The  last  period,  which  extends  from  320  B.C.  to  529  A.D., 
when  the  Emperor  Justinian  closed  the  schools  of  the  philoso- 
phers, is  called  the  Post- Aristotelian.  The  scene  is  laid  in 
Athens,  Alexandria,  and  Rome.  Two  phases  may  be  noted,  an 
ethical  and  a  theological  one.  (a)  The  paramount  question  with 
Zeno,  the  Stoic,  and  Epicurus,  the  hedonist,  is  the  problem  of 
conduct :  What  is  the  aim  of  rational  human  endeavor,  the  high- 
est good?  The  Epicureans  find  the  answer  in  happiness;  the 
Stoics  in  a  virtuous  life.  Both  schools  are  interested  in  logic 
and  metaphysics:  the  former,  because  such  knowledge  will 
destroy  superstition  and  ignorance  and  contribute  to  happiness ; 
the  latter,  because  it  will  teach  man  his  duty  as  a  part  of  a 
rational  universe.  The  Epicureans  are  mechanists;  according 
to  the  Stoics,  the  universe  is  the  expression  of  divine  reason, 
(b)  The  theological  movement,  which  took  its  rise  in  Alexandria, 
resulted  from  the  contact  of  Greek  philosophy  with  Oriental 
religions.  In  Neoplatonism,  its  most  developed  form,  it  seeks 
to  explain  the  world  as  an  emanation  from  a  transcendent  God 
who  is  both  the  source  and  the  goal  of  all  being. 

Consult  the  general  histories  of  philosophy  and  special  works  men- 
tioned on  pages  4  and  5;  also  the  following:  Marshall,  History  of 
Greek  Philosophy;  Windelband,  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,  transl. 
by  Cushman;  Zeller,  Outlines  of  History  of  Greek  Philosophy,  transl. 
by  Alleyne  and  Abbott;  Benn,  Philosophy  of  Greece,  2  vols.;  J.  Bur- 
net,  History  of  Greek  Philosophy;  Adamson,  Development  of  Greek 
Philosophy;  Schwegler,  Geschichte  der  griechischen  Philosophic. 

More  advanced  works:  Zeller,  Philosophy  of  the  Greeks  (the  stand- 
ard work),  transl.  by  Alleyne  and  others,  9  vols.;  Gomperz,  Greek 
Thinkers,  transl.  by  Magnus,  4  vols.;  M.  Wundt,  Geschichte  der 
griechischen  Philosophic,  2  vols.;  Doling,  Geschichte  der  griechischen 
Philosophic,  2  vols.;  Siebeck,  Untersuchungen  zur  Philosophic  der 
Griechen,  2d  ed. 

Special  works:  H.  0.  Taylor,  Ancient  Ideals;  Mahaffy,  History  of 
Greek  Civilization,  and  What  we  Owe  to  the  Greeks;  Cornford,  From 
Religion  to  Philosophy  (treats  Greek  philosophy  as  an  evolution  from 
Greek  religion) ;  Robert  Eisler,  Weltenmantel  und  Himmelszelt  (Greek 


14  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

philosophy  a  continuation  of  Iranian  traditions  of  mysteries  of  Asia 
Minor  and  India) ;  Campbell,  Religion  in  Greek  Literature;  Caird, 
Evolution  of  Theology  in  the  Greek  Philosophers,  2  vols. ;  Rohde, 
Psyche;  Gilbert,  Griechische  Eeligionsphilosophie;  Krische,  Die  the- 
ologischen  Lehren  der  griechischen  Denker;  Heinze,  Lehre  vom  Logos, 
etc.;  Aall,  Geschichte  der  Logosidee,  etc.  Logic:  Beare,  Greek  The- 
ories of  Elementary  Cognition;  German  works  by  Natorp  and  Freytag. 
Psychology:  works  by  Siebeck  (from  Aristotle  to  Thomas  of  Aquino) 
and  Chaignet.  Ethics:  by  Schmidt,  Luthardt,  Ziegler,  Kostlin;  Denis, 
Histoire  des  theories  et  des  idees  morales  dans  I'antiquite;  also  Heinze, 
Euddmonismus  in  der  griechischen  Philosophie.  Education:  works  by 
Mahaffy  and  Laurie;  Davidson,  Aristotle  and  Ancient  Educational 
Ideals.  Science:  histories  of  mathematics  by  Gow,  Allman,  Brett- 
schneider,  Hankel. 

Histories  of  Greece:  Bury,  Grote  (12  vols.),  Meyer  (5  vols.).  His- 
tories of  Greek  literature  by  Jevons,  Murray,  Croiset,  Mahaffy  (3  vols.), 
Christ,  Bergkh  (4  vols.). 

For  accounts  of  the  original  sources  see  Windelband,  Ancient  Philos- 
ophy, pp.  8-11;  Zeller,  Outlines,  pp.  7-14;  Ueberweg-Heinze,  Part  I, 
§7. 

Collections  of  fragments  and  passages  relating  to  philosophers  by 
Mullach,  3  vols.,  Ritter  and  Preller,  Diels,  Fragmente  der  Vorsokratiker 
(Greek  and  German),  2d  ed.,  Doxographi  Graeci,  and  Poetarum  phi- 
losophorum  fragmenta.  Consult  always  Aristotle,  Metaphysics,  Bk.  I. 

English  translations  of  fragments,  etc.:  Fairbanks,  First  Philoso- 
phers of  Greece;  Bakewell,  Source-Book  of  Ancient  Philosophy.  See 
also  Jackson,  Texts  to  Illustrate  the  History  of  Philosophy  from 
Thales  to  Aristotle. 

2.   DEVELOPMENT  OF  PRE-SOPHISTIC  PHILOSOPHY 

Under  this  head  we  shall  consider  the  Ionian  "  physicists," 
or  nature-philosophers,  the  Pythagoreans,  Heraclitus,  the 
Eleatics,  Empedocles,  the  Atomists,  and  Anaxagoras.  The 
speculative  impulse  finds  genuine  expression  in  the  Ionian 
physicists,  who  attempt  to  explain  phenomena  by  natural  causes 
and  without  appeal  to  mythical  beings.  They  ask  the  question : 
What  is  the  basal  stuff  of  which  the  world  is  composed?  and 
answer  in  terms  of  sense-perception:  it  is  either  water  or  air 
or  a  hypothetical  undifferentiated  mass.  By  means  of  a  single 
principle  (monism)  they  endeavor  to  account  for  the  qualities 
of  different  bodies  and  their  changes :  these  are  transformations 
of  the  primal  stuff.  As  observation  shows,  substances  are 
changed  into  other  substances  (water,  for  example,  becomes 
steam) ;  hence  the  original  element  must  have  been  similarly 
transmuted  into  the  different  substances  found  in  our  present 


PRE-SOPHISTIC  PHILOSOPHY  15 

world  of  experience.  The  fact  of  change  itself  is  explained  by 
the  view, — tacitly  assumed  by  all  the  early  Greek  thinkers, — 
that  reality  is  alive:  the  original  substance  bears  within  itself 
the  cause  of  motion  and  change  (hylozoism).  The  Pythagoreans 
fix  their  attention,  not  so  much  upon  a  sense-perceived  substance, 
as  upon  the  relations  existing  between  things,  the  order,  uni- 
formity, or  harmony  in  the  world.  Since  this  may  be  expressed 
in  numbers,  they  make  entities  of  numbers,  conceiving  them  as 
the  primary  causes  of  things.  Heraclitus  resembles  the  lonians 
in  assuming  an  animated  substance  (fire)  as  the  principle,  but 
consciously  singles  out  the  fact  of  change,  or  becoming,  as  the 
significant  thing:  the  world,  according  to  him,  is  in  constant 
change ;  everything  is  in  a  state  of  flux ;  there  is  no  real  perma- 
nence in  things.  He  also  brings  out,  more  clearly  than  did  his 
predecessors,  the  idea  that  there  is  a  reason  in  the  world  con- 
trolling its  happenings.  The  Eleatics,  too,  turn  their  attention 
to  the  notion  of  change,  but  reject  it  as  absolutely  inconceivable : 
it  is  unthinkable  that  an  element,  like  fire,  should  ever  become 
anything  else;  a  thing  cannot  become  something  other  than 
itself;  whatever  is,  must  remain  what  it  is;  permanence,  not 
change,  is  the  significant  characteristic  of  reality.  The  problem 
thus  created  is  taken  up  by  Empedocles,  who  agrees  with  the 
Eleatics  that  absolute  change  is  impossible,  that  nothing  can 
become  anything  else,  in  the  real  sense  of  the  term.  Nothing  can 
come  from  nothing;  nothing  can  go  into  nothing;  nothing  can 
change  into  anything  absolutely  different.  And  still,  so  he  holds 
with  Heraclitus,  things  do  change.  The  change,  however,  is  only 
relative,  not  absolute.  There  are  permanent  elements  or  par- 
ticles; these  are  combined  to  form  bodies:  this  is  origin;  and 
the  parts  of  the  bodies  are  separated:  this  is  decay.  Nothing 
can  really  originate  or  change  or  disappear  in  the  absolute  sense ; 
but  the  permanent,  unchangeable  elements  of  the  world  can  and 
do  change  their  relations  to  one  another.  The  Atomists  accept 
this  new  conception  in  principle,  but  differ  from  Empedocles  in 
several  respects:  instead  of  assuming,  as  he  did,  four  elements 
(earth,  air,  fire,  water)  and  certain  moving  forces,  personified 
as  Love  and  Hate,  they  presuppose  numberless  minute  indivisible 
particles  of  matter,  called  atoms,  which  are  more  elementary 
than  earth,  air,  fire,  water;  and  conceive  motion  as  inherent 


16  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

in  the  atoms  themselves.  Anaxagoras  also  subscribes  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  explanation  offered  by  Empedocles  and  the  Atomists, 
with  this  difference :  he  assumes  countless  elementary  qualities 
and  introduces  the  notion  of  a  mind,  outside  of  these  elements, 
to  explain  the  origin  of  their  motion.  The  Sophists,  finally, 
assume  a  negative  attitude  towards  all  these  theories,  declar- 
ing the  attempts  to  solve  the  world-problem  to  be  futile,  on  the 
ground  that  certain  knowledge  in  this  field  is  out  of  the  question. 

Special  works :  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philosophy,  2d  ed. ;  Heidel, 
Study  of  the  Concept  of  Nature  among  Pre-Socratics;  Teichmiiller, 
Studien;  Byk,  Vorsokratische  Philosophic;  Goebel,  Vorsokratische  Phi- 
losophic ;  Schultz,  Pythagoras  und  Heraklit.  Translations  of  fragments 
in  Fairbanks,  Burnet,  and  Bakewell.  Bibliographies  in  Ueberweg- 
Heinze,  op.  cit.,  Part  I. 

3.   PROBLEM  OP  SUBSTANCE 

Thales  was  born  in  Miletus,  a  Greek  colony,  about  624  B.C.,  and 
died  between  554  and  548  B.C.    He  was  noted  as  a  statesman,  mathema- 
tician, and  astronomer,  and  as  the  first  philosopher  of 
Thales  Greece.    It  is  said  that  he  predicted  the  eclipse  which 

occurred  May  28,  585.  All  the  writers  who  give  lists 
of  the  Seven  Wise  Men  of  Greece  mention  his  name.  Thales  prob- 
ably never  wrote  anything;  at  any  rate  we  possess  no  work  of  his; 
the  book  Nautical  Astrology,  which  has  been  ascribed  to  him,  is 
spurious.  Our  knowledge  of  his  teaching  is,  therefore,  limited  to 
secondary  sources. 

The  importance  of  Thales  lies  in  his  having  put  the  philo- 
sophical question  squarely  and  in  having  answered  it  without 
reference  to-  mythical  beings.  He  declared  water  to  be  the 
original  stuff,  basing  his  inference,  perhaps,  on  the  observed 
fact  that  many  elements  essential  to  life  (nourishment,  heat, 
seed)  contain  moisture.  Out  of  water  everything  comes;  how, 
he  does  not  tell  us,  most  likely  because  the  transformation  of  one 
substance  into  another  was  accepted  by  him  as  a  fact  of  experi- 
ence, and  was  not  a  problem  for  him  at  all.  He  evidently  looked 
•upon  nature  as  alive,  as  moving,  acting,  changing,  as  did  all 
the  early  Greek  philosophers;  so  at  least  Aristotle  tells  us.  If 
we  may  believe  Hippolytus,  all  things  not  only  come  from  water, 
according  to  Thales,  but  return  to  water.  Perhaps  he  conceived 
it  as  a  kind  of  slime,  which  would  explain  most  satisfactorily 
V>th  solids  and  liquids  and  the  origin  of  living  beings. 


PROBLEM  OF  SUBSTANCE  17 

Anaximander  was  born  in  Miletus,  611  B.C.,  and  died  547  or  546  B.C. 
He  is  mentioned  as  a  pupil  of  Thales,  and  it  is  fair  to  presume  that, 
as    a    fellow-townsman,    he   was    acquainted    with    the 
laser's   views.     We    hear    that   he   was   interested    in   Anaximander 
astronomy,   geography,   and   cosmology,   that   he   made 
maps  of  the  earth  and  of  the  heavens,  and  that  he  introduced  the 
sun-dial  into  Greece.    His  treatise  On  Nature,  of  which  only  fragments 
remain,  was  the  first  philosophical  book  written  in  Greece  and  the  first 
prose  work  in  the  Greek  language. 

Anaximander  reasoned  somewhat  as  follows:  The  essence  or 
principle  of  things  is  not  water,  as  Thales  supposes, — for  water 
itself  must  be  explained, — but  the  infinite  (to  aneipov),  an 
eternal  imperishable  substance  out  of  which  all  things  are  made 
and  to  which  all  things  return.  By  this  he  most  likely  meant 
a  boundless  space-filling  animate  mass,  the  nature  of  which 
he  did  not  define  specifically,  because  he  regarded  all  quali- 
ties as  derived  from  it.  It  is  infinite,  because,  as  he  naively 
infers,  otherwise  it  would  be  consumed  in  the  creation  of 
things. 

From  this  great  mass  of  undifferentiated  matter  different  sub- 
stances are  parted  off,  in  consequence  of  its  eternal  motion ;  first 
the  hot  and  then  the  cold,  the  hot  surrounding  the  cold  as  a 
sphere  of  flame.  The  heat  of  the  flame  turns  the  cojfl  into  mois- 
ture, and  then  into  air,  which  expands  and  breaks  up  the  sphere 
of  fire  into  wheel-shaped  rings.  The  rings  have  openings  like 
the  holes  of  a  flute,  through  which  the  fire  streams,  and  these 
are  the  heavenly  bodies,  which  the  air,  surrounding  them,  forces 
to  move  around  the  earth.  The  sun  is  the  highest  body  in  the 
heavens,  next  comes  the  moon,  and  then  the  fixed  stars  and  the 
planets.  The  earth  is  a  cylindrical  body  in  the  center,  formed 
by  the  drying-up  of  the  original  moisture,  and  the  sea  is  what 
is  left  of  the  moisture. 

Out  of  the  moist  element,  as  the  sun  evaporated  it,  the  first 
living  beings  arose.  In  the  course  of  time,  some  of  these  creatures 
came  out  of  the  water  upon  the  drier  parts  of  the  land,  and 
adapted  themselves  to  their  new  surroundings.  Man,  like  every 
other  animal,  was  in  the  beginning  a  fish.  Everything  must 
return  again  to  the  primal  mass  whence  it  sprang,  only  to  be 
produced  anew  ad  infinitum.  This  is  the  doctrine  of  the  alter- 
nation of  worlds  common  to  early  thought.  The  creation  of 


18  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

things  is  injustice,  in  the  sense  that  by  becoming  what  they  are 
they  rob  the  infinite. 

Anaximander 's  thinking  represents  an  advance  over  that  of 
Thales,  first,  in  his  attempt  to  explain  as  a  derivative  the  ele- 
ment which  Thales  sets  up  as  a  principle,  and,  secondly,  in  his 
attempt  to  describe  the  stages  of  the  process  of  becoming.  He 
likewise  seems  to  have  some  notion  of  the  indestructibility  of 
matter.  His  unwillingness  to  qualify  the  boundless  mass  shows 
a  tendency  towards  a  more  abstract  mode  of  thought  than  we 
find  in  his  predecessor's  concrete,  sense-perceived  substance.  His 
original  biological  doctrines  are  mentioned  as  early  examples  of 
the  theory  of  evolution,  while  his  theory  of  the  spheres  plays 
an  important  part  in  the  history  of  astronomy. 

Anaximenes  (588-524  B.C.),  another  citizen  of  Miletus,  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  a  pupil  of  Anaximander.    He  wrote  a  prose- 
work  in  the  Ionic  dialect,  of  which  only  a  small 
Anaximenes      »  ,   ..  , .  ,  .         , . 

fragment    is   left.     According   to   him,    the   first 

principle  of  things,  or  underlying  substance,  is  one  and  infinite, 
as  his  teacher  had  held,  but  it  is  not  indeterminate:  it  is  air, 
or  vapor,  or  mist.  As  air  or  breath  is  the  life-giving  element 
in  us,  so  it  is  the  principle  of  the  universe.  As  our  own  soul, 
which  is  air,  holds  us  together,  so  breath  (nvev^ia}  and  air 
surround  the  whole  world.  This  air  is  animate  and  extends  infi- 
nitely through  space. 

From  air  all  things  arise  by  the  processes  of  rarefaction  and 
condensation  (nvnvGoait) :  when  it  is  rarefied,  air  becomes 
fire;  when  condensed,  it  becomes,  in  turn,  wind,  cloud,  water, 
earth,  and  stone.  All  other  things  are  composed  of  these. 
Changes  are  produced  by  motion,  which  is -eternal. 

Later  followers  of  the  Milesian  school  are :  Hippo  (fifth  century  B.C.), 
Idaeus,  and  Diogenes  of  Apollonia  (440-425  B.C.). 

4.   PROBLEM  OF  NUMBER 

The  thinkers  whom  we  have  considered  were  interested  in  the 
problem  of  the  essence  of  things :  What,  they  asked,  is  the  stuff 
of  which  the  world  is  composed  ?  They  regarded  it  as  a  concrete, 
determinate  substance,  like  water  or  air,  or  as  something  from 
which  such  elements  are  differentiated.  We  come  now  to  a  school 


PROBLEM  OF  NUMBER  19 

of  philosophers  who  turned  their  attention  particularly  to  the 
question  of  form  or  relation.  As  mathematicians  they  were 
interested  in  quantitative  relations,  which  are 
measurable,  and  began  to  speculate  upon  the  prob- 
lem  of  the  uniformity  and  regularity  in  the  world, 
attempting  to  explain  this  fact  by  making  an  entity  of  number, 
and  setting  it  up  as  the  principle  of  all  being. 


The  founder  of  the  school  (the  Pythagoreans)  was  Pythagoras. 
Many  fantastic  stories  are  told  of  this  man,  particularly  by  writers 
coming  centuries  after  his  time.  He  is  said  to  have  traveled  ex- 
tensively and  to  have  derived  his  ideas  from  the  countries  through 
which  he  passed,  but  these  accounts  are  untrustworthy.  He  was  born 
in  Samos,  between  580  and  570  B.C.,  and  emigrated  to  the  Greek 
colonies  in  Southern  Italy,  perhaps  in  the  year  529.  It  is  stated 
that  his  opposition  to  the  tyranny  of  Polycrates  and  his  loyalty  to 
the  aristocratic  party  caused  him  to  leave  his  home.  He  settled  in 
Crotona  and  founded  an  association,  the  purpose  of  which  is  described 
as  ethical,  religious,  and  political.  His  ideal  was  to  develop,  among 
his  followers,  the  political  virtues,  to  teach  them  to  act  for  the  good 
of  the  State,  to  subordinate  themselves  to  the  whole.  In  order  to 
realize  this  end,  he  emphasized  the  need  of  moral  training:  the  in- 
dividual should  learn  to  control  himself,  to  subdue  his  passions,  to 
harmonize  his  soul;  he  should  have  respect  for  authority,  for  the 
authority  of  his  elders,  his  teachers,  and  the  State.  The  Pythagorean 
brotherhood  seems  to  have  been  a  practical  training-school  for  citizen- 
ship, in  which  the  ideals  of  the  master  were  put  to  the  test.  Its 
members  cultivated  the  virtue  of  friendship,  and  practised  the  habit 
of  self-examination  with  a  view  to  improving  their  character.  They 
formed  a  community,  living  together  as  a  large  family,  taking  their 
meals  in  common,  wearing  the  same  kind  of  dress,  and  applying  them- 
selves to  the  arts  and  crafts,  as  well  as  to  the  study  of  music,  medicine, 
and,  particularly,  mathematics.  It  was  customary  for  members  to 
pass  through  a  novitiate,  the  watchword  being:  first  to  hear,  then  to 
know.  It  is  probable  that  the  society  was,  originally,  a  form  of  the 
great  popular  religious  revival  which  took  place  in  Greece  at  this 
time,  and  which  had  as  its  aim  the  purification  of  life  and  the  par- 
ticipation of  the  entire  people  in  worship,  particularly  that  form  of 
it  which  expressed  itself  in  the  so-called  mysteries.  In  the  teachings 
of  these  mysteries,  the  future  destiny  of  the  soul  was  made  dependent 
on  man's  conduct  during  his  earthly  life,  and  rules  were  laid  down  for 
the  governance  of  his  conduct.  It  is  held  that  the  Pythagorean  society 
extended  the  usefulness  of  this  religious  movement,  which  was  spreading 
among  the  lower  classes,  by  adapting  it  to  the  needs  of  the  more 
educated  and  aristocratic  classes. 

The  political  tendencies  of  the  Pythagorean  brotherhood  brought  it 
into  conflict  with  the  people  of  many  cities  in  which  it  gained  ad- 
herents, and  ultimately  provoked  serious  persecution.  In  consequence  of 


20  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

these  disturbances,  it  is  stated,  Pythagoras  was  forced  to  seek  refuge  in 
Metapontum,  where  he  died  500  B.C.,  while  many  of  his  followers  were 
driven  from  Italy  and  found  a  home  in  Greece,  among  them  Archytas  of 
Tarentum  (most  likely  a  contemporary  of  Socrates)  and  Lysis,  who 
escaped  to  Thebes.  These  misfortunes  put  an  end  to  the  Pythagorean 
brotherhood  as  an  organized  society,  though  disciples  of  the  master 
continued  to  teach  and  develop  his  doctrines  for  hundreds  of  years. 

Porphyry,  Life  of  Pythagoras;  Jamblichus,  Life  of  Pythagoras.  See 
Gomperz,  op.  cit.,  vol.  I;  Zeller,  vol.  I. 

Pythagoras  himself  left  no  writings,  and  we  can  ascribe  to  him 
only  the  ethical,  political,  and  religious  teachings  which  have  been 
mentioned.  It  is  likely,  however,  that  he  is  the  originator  of  the 
number-theory  which  forms  the  central  idea  in  the  doctrines  of  the 
school  that  bears  his  name  and  to  which  we  now  turn.  The  system, 
as  it  has  come  down  to  us,  was  worked  out  by  Philolaus,  in  the  second 
half  of  the  fifth  century  B.C.,  and  continued  by  other  members  of 
the  school  (Archytas,  Lysis)  into  the  fourth  century. 

The  Pythagoreans  take  note  of  the  fact  of  form  and  relation 
in  the  world ;  they  find  measure,  order,  proportion,  and  uniform 

recurrence,  which  can  be  expressed  in  numbers. 
Pythagorean  Without  number,  they  reasoned,  there  can  be  no 
Theory1"  suc^  rations  and  uniformities,  no  order,  no  law; 

hence  number  must  lie  at  the  basis  of  everything; 
numbers  must  be  the  true  realities,  the  substances  and  grounds 
of  things,  and  everything  else  an  expression  of  numbers.  They 
made  entities  of  numbers,  just  as  many  persons  to-day  make 
entities  of  the  laws  of  nature,  speaking  of  them  as  though  they 
were  the  causes  of  whatever  happens.  In  their  delight  over 
the  discovery  that  there  is  a  numerical  relation,  for  example, 
between  the  length  of  the  string  and  the  pitch  of  the  tone,  they 
called  number,  which  is  only  a  symbol  or  expression  of  the 
relation,  the  cause  of  the  relation,  and  placed  number  behind 
phenomena  as  their  basal  principle  and  ground. 

Now  if  number  is  the  essence  of  things,  then  whatever  is  true 
of  number  will  be  true  of  things.  The  Pythagoreans,  therefore, 
devoted  themselves  to  the  study  of  the  countless  peculiarities 
discoverable  in  numbers,  and  ascribed  these  to  the  universe 
at  large.  Numbers  are  odd  and  even ;  the  odd  cannot  be  divided 
by  two,  the  even  can;  hence  the  former  are  limited,  the  latter 
unlimited.  Hence  the  odd  and  the  even,  the  finite  and  the 
infinite,  the  limited  and  unlimited,  constitute  the  essence  of 
reality.  So,  too,  nature  is  a  union  of  opposites,  of  the  odd  and 


PROBLEM  OF  NUMBER  21 

the  even,  the  limited  and  unlimited.  A  table  of  ten  such  oppo- 
gites  is  offered:  limited  and  unlimited;  odd  and  even;  one  and 
many ;  right  and  left ;  male  and  female ;  rest  and  motion ;  straight 
and  crooked;  light  and  darkness;  good  and  bad;  square  and 
rectangle.  Each  of  the  numbers  from  one  to  ten  has  its 
peculiarity. 

The  corporeal  world  is  also  numerical,  being  based  on  the  unit. 
The  point  is  one,  the  line  two,  the  figure  three,  the  solid  four. 
Again,  earth  is  a  cube;  fire,  a  tetrahedron;  air,  an  octohedron; 
water,  an  icosahedron ;  and  so  on.  That  is,  the  lines  and  surfaces 
of  bodies  were  conceived  as  entities  having  an  independent  exist- 
ence; for  there  can  be  no  bodies  without  lines  and  surfaces, 
whereas  lines  and  surfaces  can  be  thought  without  bodies.  The 
spatial  forms  are  the  causes  of  bodies,  and  since  these  forms 
can  be  expressed  by  numbers,  the  latter  are  the  ultimate  causes. 
The  same  reasoning  was  applied  to  non-corporeal  things:  love, 
friendship,  justice,  virtue,  health,  etc.,  are  based  on  numbers; 
love  and  friendship  being  expressed  by  the  number  eight,  be- 
cause love  and  friendship  are  harmony,  and  the  octave  is 
harmony. 

The  Pythagorean  school  also  gave  its  attention  to  the  study 
of  astronomy  and  furnished  a  number  of  noted  astronomers.  In 
the  center  of  the  universe,  which  forms  a  sphere,  . 
they  placed  the  central  fire;  around  it  the  planets 
revolve,  turned  by  means  of  transparent  moving  spheres  to 
which  they  are  attached.  The  fixed  stars  are  fastened  to  the 
highest  arch  of  heaven,  which  revolves  around  the  central  fire 
in  the  course  of  36,000  years;  below  this  follow,  in  concentric 
spheres,  Saturn,  Jupiter,  Mars,  Mercury,  Venus,  the  sun,  moon, 
and  earth.  But  since  ten  is  the  perfect  number,  there  must  be 
ten  heavenly  bodies;  hence,  the  Pythagoreans  place  between  the 
earth  and  the  central  fire  a  counter-earth,  which  screens  the 
earth  from  the  rays  of  the  central  fire.  The  earth  and  counter- 
earth  daily  revolve  around  the  central  fire  in  such  a  way  that 
the  earth  always  turns  the  same  face  to  the  counter-earth  and 
the  central  fire,  for  which  reason  we,  living  on  the  other  side 
of  the  earth,  do  not  see  the  central  fire.  The  sun,  which  encircles 
the  central  fire  once  in  the  course  of  the  year,  reflects  the  light 
of  this  body.  The  movement  of  the  spheres  represents  an  octave 


22  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

and  is,  therefore,  a  harmony;  since  every  sphere  produces  its 
own  tones,  the  harmony  of  the  spheres  results. 

Fantastic  though  these  astronomical  notions  may  seem,  they 
paved  the  way  for  the  construction  of  the  heliocentric  theory, 
which  was  offered  in  antiquity  by  Aristarchus  of  Samos,  about 
280  B.C.  In  the  course  of  time,  the  counter-earth  and  central 
fire  were  given  up;  and  Hicetas  and  Ecphantus  taught  the 
axial  rotation  of  the  earth.  Heraclides  found  reason  to  reject 
the  view  that  all  the  planets  revolve  around  the  earth  in  con- 
centric spheres,  and  connected  their  movements  with  the  move- 
ment of  the  sun.  Aristarchus  concluded  from  the  larger  size  of 
the  sun  that  it  did  not  revolve  around  the  earth  and  made  the 
earth  move  round  the  sun.  (See  Gomperz,  op.  cit.,  vol.  I.) 

5.   PROBLEM  OF  CHANGE 

The  Ionian  physicists  were  interested  in  the  substantial  nature 
of  things,  the  Pythagoreans  in  quantitative  relations,  order, 
harmony,  number.  The  next  problem  to  attract 
attention  was  tne  problem  of  change  or  becoming. 
The  first  philosophers  spoke  of  the  process  of 
change,  transformation,  origin  and  decay,  in  a  naive  objective 
way;  it  was  not  a  problem  for  them  at  all.  They  did  not  stop 
to  speculate  about  the  notion  of  change,  but  made  use  of  it,  in 
their  explanations,  without  reflection.  They  showed  how  every- 
thing emerged  from  their  assumed  primal  unity  and  how  every- 
thing returned  to  it,  how,  for  example,  air  became  clouds,  clouds 
water,  water  earth,  and  how  all  these  substances  could  be  trans- 
formed back  again  into  the  original  substratum.  Implicit  in 
all  these  theories  of  the  transformation  of  substance  was  the 
thought  that  nothing  could  absolutely  originate  or  be  lost:  it 
is  the  same  principle  that  appears  now  as  water,  now  as  cloud, 
and  now  as  earth.  It  was  only  natural  that  some  thinker  should 
emphasize  the  phenomenon  of  change,  growth,  origin  and  decay, 
and  move  it  into  the  center  of  his  system.  This  is  what  Hera- 
clitus  did.  He  is  deeply  impressed  with  the  fact  of  change  in 
the  world,  and  concludes  that  change  constitutes  the  very  life 
of  the  universe,  that  nothing  is  really  permanent,  that  perma- 
nence is  an  illusion,  that  though  things  may  appear  to  remain 


PROBLEM  OF  CHANGE  23 

stable,  they  are  actually  in  an  endless  process  of  becoming,  in 
a  constant  state  of  flux.  The  Eleatics  take  the  opposite  view 
and  deny  the  very  possibility  of  change  or  becoming.  To  them 
it  is  unthinkable  that  reality  should  change,  that  a  thing  should 
really  and  truly  become  something  else.  And  so  they  declared 
that  change  is  illusory,  mere  sense-appearance,  and  that  being 
is  permanent  and  eternal. 


Heraclitus  (535-475  B.C.)  was  born  in  Ephesus,  the  son  of  a  noble 
family.  He  remained  an  uncompromising  aristocrat  all  his  life,  his 
contempt  for  the  democracy  being  extreme.  He  was 
serious,  critical,  and  pessimistic,  independent  in  his  Heraclitus 
opinion  of  men,  dogmatic,  proud,  and  inclined  to  find 
fault.  He  speaks  disparagingly  of  Hesiod,  Pythagoras,  Xenophanes, 
and  even  of  Homer,  and  prides  himself  on  being  self-taught.  "  Polyma- 
thy,"  he  says,  "  does  not  train  the  mind ;  if  it  did,  it  would  have  made 
Hesiod  and  Pythagoras  and  Xenophanes  wise."  His  style  is  obscure, 
possibly  intentionally  so,  so  that  he  came  to  be  called  the  Obscure. 
Nevertheless,  he  was  a  forceful  writer,  full  of  wise  and  original  sayings, 
and  given  to  oracular  utterances,  which  he  made  no  attempt  to  support 
by  proof.  Only  fragments  of  his  work  remain;  it  is  supposed  to 
have  borne  the  customary  title  On  Nature  and  to  have  been  divided 
into  three  parts,  physical,  ethical,  political.  The  Letters  frequently 
ascribed  to  him  are  spurious. 

Patrick,  Heraclitus  on  Nature;  Bywater,  Fragments  of  Heraclitus; 
Diels,  Heraklit  (Greek  and  German),  2d  ed. ;  Schafer,  Die  Philosophie 
des  Heraklit;  monographs  by  Bernays,  Lasalle,  E.  Pfleiderer,  Spengler, 
Bodrero. 


The  fundamental  thought  in  the  teaching  of  Heraclitus  is,  as 
we  have  already  seen,  that  the  universe  is  in  a  state  of  cease- 
less change ;  '  *  you  could  not  step  twice  into  the 
same  rivers,  for  other  and  yet  other  waters  are  H111 
ever  flowing  on."    It  is  to  bring  out  this  notion 
of  incessant  activity  that  he  chooses  as  his  first  principle  the 
most  mobile  substance  he  knows,  something  that  never  seems  to 
come  to  rest,  the  ever-living  fire  (sometimes  called  by  him  vapor 
or  breath),  which  is  regarded  by  him  as  the  vital  principle  in 
the  organism  and  the  essence  of  the  soul.    To  some  interpreters 
the  fire-principle  is  merely  a  concrete  physical  expression  for 
ceaseless  activity,  or  process,  not  a  substance,  but  the  denial  of 
substance,  pure  activity.    Heraclitus,  however,  most  likely,  did 
not  reason  the  thing  out  to  so  fine  a  point ;  it  sufficed  him  to  have 


24  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

a  principle  that  changes  incessantly,  undergoes  continual  quali- 
tative transformation;  and  fire  satisfied  these  demands. 

Fire  changes  into  water  and  then  into  earth,  and  the  earth 
changes  back  again  into  water  and  fire,  "  for  the  way  upward 
and  the  way  downward  are  one."  "  All  things  are  exchanged 
for  fire,  and  fire  for  all  things ;  as  wares  are  exchanged  for  gold 
and  gold  for  wares. ' '  Things  seem  to  be  permanent  because  we 
do  not  perceive  the  incessant  movements  in  them,  and  because 
what  they  lose  in  one  way  they  gain  in  another:  the  sun  is  new 
every  day,  kindled  at  its  rising  and  quenched  at  its  setting. 

The  primal  unity  is  in  constant  motion  and  change,  it  never 
stands  still.  Its  creation  is  destruction,  its  destruction  creation. 
That  is,  as  it  passes  into  something  else,  from  fire  into  water, 
the  fire  is  lost  in  a  new  form  of  existence.  Everything  is  thus 
changed  into  its  opposite;  everything,  therefore,  is  a  union  of 
opposite  qualities;  nothing  can  persist  in  its  qualities,  there  is 
no  thing  that  has  permanent  qualities.  In  this  sense,  everything 
both  is  and  is  not;  whatever  can  be  predicated  of  its  opposite 
may  at  the  same  time  be  predicated  of  it.  And  such  opposition 
alone  makes  a  world  possible.  Harmony  in  music,  for  example, 
results  from  the  combination  of  high  notes  and  low  notes,  i.e., 
from  a  union  of  opposites. 

In  other  words,  the  world  is  ruled  by  strife:  "  war  is  the 
father  of  all  and  the  king  of  all."  If  it  were  not  for  strife 
or  opposition,  the  world  would  pass  away, — stagnate  and  die. 
"  Even  a  potion  dissolves  into  its  ingredients  when  it  is  not 
stirred."  The  oppositions  and  contradictions  are  united,  and 
harmony  is  the  result ;  indeed,  there  could  be  no  such  order  with- 
out contradiction,  opposition,  movement,  or  change.  Ultimately, 
they  will  all  be  reconciled  in  the  universal  principle ;  the  world 
will  return  to  the  original  state  of  fire,  which  is  also  reason, 
and  the  process  will  begin  anew.  In  this  sense,  good  and  bad 
are  the  same;  "  life  and  death,  waking  and  sleeping,  and  youth 
and  old  age,  are  the  same;  for  the  latter  change  and  are  the 
former,  and  the  former  change  back  to  the  latter."  For  God 
all  things  are  fair  and  good  and  just,  for  God  orders  things 
as  they  ought  to  be,  perfects  all  things  in  the  harmony  of  the 
whole,  but  men  suppose  some  are  unjust  and  others  just. 

The  cosmic  process,  therefore,  is  not  haphazard  or  arbitrary, 


PROBLEM  OF  CHANGE  25 

but  in  accordance  with  "  fixed  measure  ";  or,  as  we  should  say 
to-day,  governed  by  law.  "  This  one  order  of 
things  neither  any  one  of  the  gods  nor  of  men  has 
made,  but  it  always  was,  is,  and  ever  shall  be,  an 
ever-living  fire,  kindling  according  to  fixed  measure  and 
extinguished  according  to  fixed  measure."  Heraclitus  some- 
times speaks  of  it  as  the  work  of  Fate  or  Justice,  expressing  in 
this  way  the  idea  of  necessity.  In  the  midst  of  all  change  and 
contradiction,  the  only  thing  that  persists  or  remains  the  same, 
is  this  law  that  underlies  all  movement  and  change  and  opposi- 
tion ;  it  is  the  reason  in  things,  the  logos.  The  first  principle  is, 
therefore,  a  rational  principle;  it  is  alive  and  endowed  with 
reason.  "  This  alone  is  wise,"  says  our  philosopher,  "  to  un- 
derstand the  intelligence  by  which  all  things  are  steered  through 
all  things."  Whether  he  conceived  it  as  conscious  intelligence, 
we  cannot  say  with  absolute  certainty,  but  it  is  fair  to  presume 
that  he  did. 

On  this  theory  of  the  universe,  Heraclitus  bases  his  psy* 
chology  and  ethics.  Man's  soul  is  a  part  of  the  universal  fire 
and  nourished  by  it.  We  breathe  it,  and  receive 
it  through  our  senses.  The  driest  and  warmest 
soul  is  the  best  soul,  most  like  the  cosmic  fire-soul. 
Sense-knowledge  is  inferior  to  reason;  the  eyes  and  ears  are 
bad  witnesses.  That  is,  perception  without  reflection  does  not 
reveal  to  us  the  hidden  truth,  which  can  be  found  only  by 
reason. 

The  controlling  element  in  man  is  the  soul,  which  is  akin 
to  divine  reason.  He  must  subordinate  himself  to  the  universal 
reason,  to  the  law  that  pervades  all  things.  "  It  is  necessary 
for  those  who  speak  with  intelligence  to  hold  fast  to  the  uni- 
versal element  in  all  things,  as  a  city  holds  fast  to  the  law,  and 
much  more  strongly.  For  all  human  laws  are  nourished  by  one 
which  is  divine."  To  be  ethical  is  to  live  a  rational  life,  to 
obey  the  dictates  of  reason,  which  is  the  same  for  us  all,  the 
same  for  the  whole  world.  Yet,  "  though  reason  is  common, 
most  people  live  as  though  they  had  an  understanding  peculiar 
to  themselves."  Morality  means  respect  for  law,  self-discipline, 
control  of  passions ;  it  is  to  govern  oneself  by  rational  princi- 
ples. "  The  people  ought  to  fight  for  their  law  as  for  a  wall." 


26  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

"  Character  is  a  man's  guardian  divinity. "  "  Wantonness 
must  be  quenched  more  than  a  conflagration."  t(  It  is  hard 
to  contend  with  passion;  for  whatever  it  desires  to  get  it  buys 
at  the  cost  of  the  soul."  "  To  me  one  man  is  ten  thousand 
if  he  be  the  best." 

Heraclitus  had  a  low  opinion  of  the  masses  who  "  follow  the 
bards  and  employ  the  crowd  as  their  teacher,  not  knowing  that 
many  are  bad  and  few  good,"  and  "  eat  their  fill  like  cattle." 
Life  is  a  sorry  game  at  best :  * '  lifetime  is  a  child  playing  at 
draughts ;  the  kingdom  is  a  child 's. "  * '  Man,  like  a  light  in  the 
night,  is  kindled  and  put  out."  For  the  popular  religion,  too, 
he  had  nothing  but  contempt:  tl  They  purify  themselves  with 
blood,  as  if  one  who  had  stepped  into  the  mud  were  to  wash  it 
off  with  mud.  If  any  one  of  men  should  observe  him  doing  so, 
he  would  think  he  was  insane.  And  to  these  images  they  pray, 
just  as  if  one  were  to  converse  with  men 's  houses,  for  they  know 
not  what  gods  and  heroes  are. ' '  * 

Heraclitus  is  impressed  with  the  phenomenon  of  change  and 
motion;   the   Eleatics   insist  that   change   and  motion   are  un- 
thinkable,  that  the   principle  of  things   must  be 
permanent,   unmoved,   and   never-changing.     The 
school  takes  its  name  from  the  town  of  Elea,  in 
Southern  Italy,  the  home  of  its  real  founder  Parmenides.     We 
distinguish  three  phases  in  this  philosophy:   (1)   Xenophanes, 
who  may  be  regarded  as  the  originator,  presents  its  fundamental 
thought  in  theological  form.      (2)    Parmenides  develops  it  as 
an  ontology  and  completes  the  system.     (3)  Zeno  and  Melissus 
are  the  defenders  of  the  doctrine:  they  are  the  dialecticians  of 
the  school.    The  former  attempts  to  prove  the  Eleatic  theses  by 
showing  the  absurdity  of  their  opposites,  while  the  latter  offers 
positive  proofs  in  support  of  the  theories. 

Freudenthal,  Uber  die  Theologie  des  Xenophanes;  Diels,  Parmenides. 
See  bibliography  in  Ueberweg-Heinze,  §§  18-21. 

Xenophanes  (570-480  B.C.)  emigrated  from  Colophon,  in  Asia 

Minor,  to  Southern  Italy,  and  as  a  rhapsodist  wandered  from 

place  to  place,  reciting  his  ethical-religious  poems.     Only  a  few 

fragments  of  his  works  are  extant.     He  is  a  speculative  theo- 

*  Translations  by  Fairbanks,  First  Philosophers  of  Greece. 


PROBLEM  OF  CHANGE  27 

logian  rather  than  a  philosopher.  Like  Pythagoras,  he  came 
under  the  influence  of  the  popular  religious  movement  of  the 
sixih  century.  He  attacks  the  prevailing  polythe- 
ism  with  its  anthropomorphism,  and  proclaims  the 
unity  and  unchangeableness  of  God.  "  But  mortals  think  that 
the  gods  are  born  as  they  are,  and  have  perceptions  like  theirs,  and 
voice  and  form."  "  Yes,  and  if  oxen  or  lions  had  hands,  and 
could  paint  with  their  hands  and  produce  works  of  art  as  men 
do,  horses  would  paint  the  forms  of  the  gods  like  horses  and 
oxen  like  oxen.  Each  would  represent  them  with  bodies  accord- 
ing to  the  form  of  each."  "  So  the  Ethiopians  make  their  gods 
black  and  snub-nosed;  the  Thracians  give  theirs  red  hair  and 
blue  eyes. ' '  *  God  is  one,  unlike  mortals  in  body  or  in  mind ; 
without  toil  he  governs  all  things  by  the  thought  of  his  mind. 
He  abides  in  one  place  and  does  not  move  at  all;  he  sees  all 
over,  thinks  all  over,  and  hears  all  over,  that  is,  in  all  his  parts. 
God  is  one;  he  is  without  beginning,  or  eternal.  He  is  unlim- 
ited in  the  sense  that  there  is  nothing  beside  him,  but  limited 
in  the  sense  that  he  is  not  a  formless  infinite,  but  a  sphere, 
a  perfect  form.  He  is  immovable  as  a  whole, — for  motion  is 
inconsistent  with  the  unity  of  being, — but  there  is  motion  or 
change  in  his  parts. 

Xenophanes  is  a  pantheist,  conceiving  God  as  the  eternal 
principle  of  the  universe  in  which  everything  is,  as  the  One  and 
All  ( eV  Hat  ndv )  :  God,  in  other  words,  is  the  world ;  he  is  not 
a  pure  spirit,  but  the  whole  of  animated  nature,  as  the  early 
Greeks  always  conceived  nature  (hylozoism).  If  he  believed 
in  the  gods  of  polytheism  at  all,  he  regarded  them  as  parts  of 
the  world,  as  natural  phenomena. 

Xenophanes  also  offered  natural-scientific  theories.  From  the 
evidence  of  shells  and  imprints  of  sea-products  in  stones,  he 
infers  that  we  ourselves,  and  all  things  that  come  into  being 
and  grow,  arose  from  earth  and  water.  Once  the  earth  was 
mingled  with  the  sea,  but  it  became  freed  from  moisture  in  the 
course  of  time.  It  will  sink  back  again  into  the  sea  and  become 
mud,  and  the  race  will  begin  anew  from  the  beginning.  The 
sun  and  the  stars  he  regards  as  fiery  clouds,  which  are  extin- 
guished and  rekindled  daily. 

•Translations  by  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philosophy. 


28  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

The  world-view  suggested  by  Xenophanes  was  developed  and  com- 
pleted by  Parmenides,  the  metaphysician  of  the  school,  who  was  born 
about  515  B.C.,  the  son  of  a  wealthy  Elean  family.  He  was  acquainted 
with  the  teachings  of  Heraclitus,  and  had  probably  been  a  Pythagorean. 
His  didactic  poem  On  Nature,  fragments  of  which  have  been  pre- 
served, is  divided  into  two  parts:  concerning  truth  and  concerning 
opinions. 

Heraclitus  taught  that  everything  changes,  that  fire  becomes 
water,  and  water  earth,  and  earth  fire,  that  things  are  and  then 
are  not.  But  how  is  this  possible?  asks  Par- 
menides; how  can  a  thing  both  be  and  not  bet 
How  can  any  one  think  such  a  contradiction;  how  can  a  thing 
change  its  qualities,  how  can  one  quality  become  another  quality  ? 
To  say  that  it  can,  is  to  say  that  something  is  and  something 
is  not,  that  something  can  come  from  nothing,  and  that  some- 
thing can  become  nothing.  Or,  to  employ  another  line  of  argu- 
ment :  If  being  has  become,  it  must  either  have  come  from  not- 
being  or  from  being.  If  from  not-being,  it  has  come  from 
nothing,  which  is  impossible ;  if  from  being,  then  it  has  come 
from  itself,  which  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  it  is  identical  with 
itself  or  always  was. 

It  is  evident,  then,  that  from  being,  only  being  can  come,  that 
no  thing  can  become  anything  else,  that  whatever  is  always  has 
been  and  always  will  be,  or  remains  what  it  is.  Hence,  there 
can  be  only  one  eternal,  underived,  unchangeable  being.  Since 
it  is  all  alike  and  there  cannot  be  anything  in  it  but  being, 
it  must  be  continuous.  Further,  it  must  be  immovable,  for 
being  cannot  come  into  being  or  pass  away,  and  there  is  no  non- 
being  (space)  for  it  to  move  in.  Again,  being  and  thought  are 
one,  for  what  cannot  be  thought,  cannot  be;  and  what  cannot 
be,  or  non-being,  cannot  be  thought.  That  is,  thought  and  being 
are  identical:  whatever  is  thought,  has  being.  Being  and 
thought  are  also  one  in  the  sense  that  reality  is  endowed  with 
mind. 

Being  or  reality  is  a  homogeneous,  continuous,  indeterminate 
mass, — which  the  aesthetic  imagination  of  our  philosopher  pic- 
tures as  a  sphere, — endowed  with  reason,  eternal  and  immutable. 
All  change  is  inconceivable,  and,  therefore,  the  world  of  sense 
is  an  illusion.  To  regard  as  true  what  we  perceive  by  the  senses, 
is  to  identify  being  with  non-being.  Parmenides  shows  a  firm 


PROBLEM  OF  CHANGE  29 

belief  in  reason:  what  is  contradictory  to  thought  cannot  be 
real. 

Besides  the  doctrine  called  the  truth,  Parmenides  offers  a 
theory,  based  on  sense-perception,  according  to  which  there  are 
both  being  and  non-being,  and  hence  motion  and  change.  The 
world  is  the  result  of  the  mingling  of  two  principles,  the  warm 
and  light  element  and  the  cold  and  dark  element.  Organic 
beings  arose  from  slime.  The  thought  of  man  depends  on  the 
mixture  of  the  elements  in  his  body,  the  warm  element  per- 
ceiving the  warmth  and  light  in  the  world;  the  other,  its 
opposite. 

Parmenides  shows  us  in  his  "  true  "  teaching  that  logical 
thought  compels  us  to  conceive  the  world  as  a  unity,  as  un- 
changeable and  immovable.  Sense-perception,  on  the  other  hand, 
reveals  to  us  a  world  of  plurality  and  change :  this  is  the  world 
of  appearance  and  opinion.  How  it  is  possible  for  such  a  world 
to  exist,  or  how  it  is  possible  to  perceive  such  a  world,  he  does 
not  tell  us. 

Zeno   (about  490-430),  a  statesman  of  Elea  and  a  pupil  of 
Parmenides,  attempts  to  prove  the  Eleatic  doctrine  by  point- 
ing out  the  absurdity  of  its  opposite.     His  idea 
.  *  .„  ,       ,.,  Dialectics 

is  that,  if  we  assume  plurality  and  motion,  we 

involve  ourselves  in  contradictions.  Such  notions  are  self- 
contradictory,  hence  it  is  impossible  to  accept  them.  Thus,  if 
there  are  many  things,  these  must  be  both  infinitely  small  and 
infinitely  great;  infinitely  small,  because  we  can  divide  them 
into  infinitely  small  parts,  which  will  never  give  us  magnitude ; 
infinitely  great,  because  we  can  add  an  infinite  number  of  parts 
to  every  part.  It  is  absurd  to  say  that  multiplicity  is  both 
infinitely  small  and  infinitely  great,  hence  we  must  reject  it. 
Motion  and  space  are  impossible  for  similar  reasons.  If  we 
say  that  all  being  is  in  space,  we  must  assume  that  this  space  is 
in  a  space,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  Similarly,  let  us  assume 
that  a  body  is  moving  through  space.  In  order  to  pass  through 
a  certain  space,  it  must  first  have  moved  through  half  of  that 
space;  in  order  to  have  passed  through  this  half,  it  must  first 
have  gone  through  half  of  this  half,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  In 


30  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

short,  the  body  can  really  never  get  anywhere;  and  motion  is 
impossible. 

Melissus  of  Samos,  a  successful  admiral,  attempts  a  positive 
proof  of  the  Eleatic  doctrine.  Being  cannot  have  originated, 
for  that  would  mean  that  there  was  non-being  before  there  was 
being;  and  from  non-being  being  cannot  come.  Being  is  also 
one,  for  if  there  were  more  beings  than  one,  being  would  not  be 
unlimited.  There  is  no  empty  space  or  non-being,  hence  motion 
is  impossible.  If  there  is  neither  multiplicity  nor  motion,  there 
can  be  neither  separation  nor  combination,  and  no  change. 
Hence,  the  senses  deceive  us  in  presenting  motion  and  change. 

6.   EXPLANATION  OF  CHANGE 

The  old  nature-philosophers  had  all  implicitly  assumed  that 
nothing  can  arise  or  disappear,  that  absolute  creation  or  de- 
struction is  impossible.  They  did  not,  however, 
the  Middle  bring  this  thought  to  consciousness;  they  accepted 
it  without  criticism;  it  was  implicit  rather  than 
explicit  in  their  minds.  The  Eleatic  thinkers  become  fully  con- 
scious of  the  axiom;  they  do  not  merely  tacitly  presuppose  it 
in  their  reasonings,  but  deliberately  assert  it  as  an  absolute 
principle  of  thought  and  rigorously  apply  it.  Nothing  can  arise 
or  disappear,  and  nothing  can  change  into  anything  else;  no 
quality  can  become  another  quality,  for  that  would  mean  the 
disappearance  of  a  quality  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  creation  of 
a  quality  on  the  other.  Reality  is  permanent  and  unchangeable, 
change  a  fiction  of  the  senses. 

Still,  things  seem  to  persist,  and  things  seem  to  change.  How 
is  it  possible  for  things  to  persist  and  yet  to  change?  How 
is  this  deadlock  in  thought  to  be  removed  ?  Philosophy  could  not 
leave  the  matter  thus;  the  riddle  of  permanence  and  change 
had  to  be  solved,  the  static  and  the  dynamic  views  of  the  world 
had  to  be  reconciled  in  some  way;  and  this  the  successors  of 
Heraclitus  and  Parmenides  proceeded  to  do. 

Absolute  change,  they  say,  is  impossible;  so  far  the  Eleatics 
are  right.  It  is  impossible  for  a  thing  to  come  from  nothing, 
to  become  nothing,  and  to  change  absolutely.  And  yet  we  have 
the  right  to  speak  of  origin  and  decay,  growth  and  change, 


EXPLANATION  OF  CHANGE  31 

in  a  relative  sense.  There  are  beings  or  particles  of  reality 
that  are  permanent,  original,  imperishable,  underived,  and  these 
cannot  change  into  anything  else:  they  are  what  they  are  and 
must  remain  so,  just  as  the  Eleatic  school  maintains.  '  These 
beings,  or  particles  of  reality,  however,  can  be  combined  and 
separated,  that  is,  form  bodies  that  can  again  be  resolved  into 
their  elements.  The  original  bits  of  reality  cannot  be  created 
or  destroyed  or  change  their  nature,  but  they  can  change  their 
relations  in  respect  to  each  other.  And  this  is  what  we  mean 
by  change.  In  other  words,  absolute  change  is  impossible,  but 
relative  change  is  possible.  Origin  means  combination,  decay 
separation  of  elements :  change  is  a  change  in  their  relations. 

Empedocles,  the  Atomists,  and  Anaxagoras  give  the  same 
general  answer  to  the  problem  proposed  by  Heraclitus  and  Par- 
menides.  They  agree  that  absolute  change  is  impossible,  but 
that  there  is  relative  change.  They  differ,  however,  in  their 
answers  to  the  following  questions:  (1)  What  is  the  nature  of 
the  particles  of  reality  of  which  the  world  is  composed?  (2) 
What  causes  these  particles  to  combine  and  separate?  Accord- 
ing to  Empedocles  and  Anaxagoras,  the  elements  have  definite 
qualities;  according  to  the  Atomists,  they  are  without  quality. 
According  to  Empedocles,  there  are  four  qualitative  elements : 
earth,  air,  fire,  water ;  according  to  Anaxagoras,  there  are  count- 
less numbers  of  such  elements.  According  to  Empedocles,  two 
mythical  beings,  Love  and  Hate,  cause  the  elements  to  unite  and 
divide;  according  to  Anaxagoras,  it  is  a  mind  outside  of  the 
elements  that  initiates  motion;  according  to  the  Atomists,  mo- 
tion is  inherent  in  the  elements  themselves. 

Empedocles  was  born  in  Agrigentum,  Sicily,  495  B.C.,  the  son  of  a 
wealthy  and  public-spirited  family.    He  was  for~a~Tong  time  the  leader 
of  the  democracy  of  his  native  city,  and  it  is  said  of 
him  that  he  declined  the  kingship.     He  died,  probably   Empedocles 
as  an  exile,  in  the  Peloponnesus,  435  B.C.     The  story 
that  he  committed  suicide  by  leaping  into  the  crater  of  Mt.  ^Etna  is 
legendary.     Empedocles  was  not  only  a  statesman  and  orator,  but  a 
religious  teacher,  physician,  poet,  and  philosopher.     Many  stories  are 
told  of  the  miracles  he  worked,  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  he  himself 
believed  in  his  powers  of  magic.    We  possess  fragments  of  two  poems, 
the  one  cosmological,  On  Nature,  the  other  religious,  bearing  the  title 
Purifications.     (Translation  in  verse  by  Leonard,  1908.) 


S2  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

According  to  Empedocles,  there  is  neither  origin  nor  decay 
in  the  strict  sense,  but  only  mingling  and  separation.  "  For  it 
cannot  be  that  aught  can  arise  from  what  in  no  way  is,  and 
it  is  impossible  and  unheard  of  that  what  is  should  perish ;  for 
it  always  will  be,  wherever  one  may  keep  putting  it."*  There 
are  four  elements,  or  "  roots  of  things,"  each  having  its  specific 
nature,  earth,  air,  fire,  water ;  they  are  underived,  unchangeable, 
and  indestructible,  and  fill  the  all.  Bodies  are  formed  by  the 
coming  together  of  these  elements,  and  destroyed  by  their  dis- 
union. The  influence  of  one  body  on  another  is  explained  as 
the  passing  of  effusions  from  the  one  into  the  pores  of  the  other, 
into  which  they  fit. 

But  what  causes  the  elements  to  unite  and  divide?  Em- 
pedocles explains  this  by  assuming  two  mythical  beings,  Love 
and  Strife,  or  Hate.f  These  two  forces, — attraction  and  re- 
pulsion, we  should  call  them, — always  act  together,  causing 
bodies  to  be  formed  and  bodies  to  be  destroyed.  Originally, 
however,  all  the  elements  were  mingled  together  in  the  form  of 
a  sphere, — a  blessed  god,  in  whom  Love  reigned  supreme.  But 
gradually  Strife  gained  the  upper  hand,  and  the  elements  were 
scattered,  each  existing  for  itself  alone,  there  being  no  bodies  of 
any  kind.  Then  Love  entered  the  chaos  and  produced  a  whirling 
motion,  causing  particles  to  unite,  like  with  like.  In  conse- 
quence, air  or  ether  first  separated  off,  forming  the  arch  of  the 
heavens;  fire  came  next,  forming  the  sphere  of  stars  beneath; 
water  was  pressed  from  the  earth  by  rotating  motion,  and  seas 
were  formed;  and  the  evaporation  of  the  water  by  the  fire  of 
heaven  produced  the  lower  atmosphere.  This  process  of  union 
will  continue  until  all  the  elements  shall  be  combined  again 
into  a  blessed  sphere,  by  the  action  of  Love,  and  then  the 
process  of  disintegration  will  begin  anew,  and  so  on,  in  periodic 
change. 

Organic  life  arose  from  the  earth;  first  plants,  then  different 
parts  of  animals,  arms  and  eyes  and  heads.  These  parts  were 
combined,  haphazard,  producing  all  kinds  of  shapeless  lumps 
and  monsters, — creatures  with  double  faces,  offspring  of  oxen 

*  Translation  by  Burnet. 

f  The  elements,  being  animated,  also  seem  to  have  the  power  to  move 
themselves.  There  is  a  tendency  of  like  to  like. 


EXPLANATION  OF  CHANGE  33 

with  human  faces,  children  of  men  with  oxen's  heads, — which 
separated  again,  until,  after  many  trials,  such  forms  were  pro- 
duced as  were  fit  to  live;  and  these  are  perpetuated  by 
generation. 

Man  is  composed  of  the  four  elements,  which  accounts  for 
his  ability  to  know  each  of  them:  like  is  known  by  like;  it  is 
by  earth  that  we  see  earth;  and  by  water,  water;  and  by  air, 
glorious  air;  and  so  on.  Sense-perception  is  explained  as  the 
result  of  the  action  of  bodies  on  the  sense-organs.  Thus,  in 
vision,  particles  (of  fire  and  water)  pass  from  the  object  seen 
to  the  eye,  where  they  are  met  by  similar  particles  passing 
through  the  pores  of  the  eye,  through  the  attraction  of  the  par- 
ticles from  without.  By  the  contact  of  these  bodies,  near  the 
surface  of  the  eye,  images  are  produced.  Only  such  particles, 
however,  affect  the  eye  as  fit  into  the  pores  of  the  eye.  In 
hearing,  air  rushes  into  the  ear  and  there  produces  sound;  in 
taste  and  smell,  particles  enter  the  nose  and  mouth.  The  heart 
is  the  seat  of  intelligence. 

Empedocles,  in  the  hylozoistic  fashion  of  the  early  Greek 
philosophers  of  nature,  ascribes  psychic  life  to  all  things :  ' '  All 
things  have  power  of  thought. ' '  In  his  religious  work  he  teaches 
the  fall  of  man  and  the  transmigration  of  souls,  doctrines  which 
seem  to  connect  him  with  the  great  Orphic  sect  that  influenced 
all  Hellas. 

Anaxagoras  (500-428  B.C.),  of  Clazomense,  in  Asia  Minor,  took  up 
his  abode  at  Athens  and  became  the  friend  of  the  great  statesman 
Pericles,  who  aimed  to  make  his  city  the  intellectual  as 
well  as  political  center  of  Hellas.    Owing  to  the  charge   Anaxagoras 
of  atheism,  brought  against  him  by  the  enemies  of  his 
patron,  he  left  Athens  after  a  residence  of  thirty  years  (464-434),  and 
settled  at  Lampsacus,  where  he  died.    He  was  a  noted  mathematician 
and  astronomer,  as  well  as  philosopher.    We  have  important  fragments 
of  his  work  On  Nature,  which  was  written  in  clear  and  simple  prose. 

Breier,  Die  Philosophie  des  Anaxagoras;  Heinze,  Uber  den  vovf  des 
Anaxagoras. 

The  problem  for  Anaxagoras,  as  for  Empedocles,  was  to 
explain  the  phenomenon  of  change  or  becoming.  He  accepted 
the  Eleatic  notion  that  absolute  change  is  impossible,  that  no 
quality  can  become  another  quality,  that  reality  must  be  per- 
manent and  unchangeable  in  its  fundamental  essence :  '  *  Nothing 


34  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

comes  into  being  or  passes  away. ' '  But  he  did  not  deny  the  fact 
of  change:  there  is  relative  change;  things  do  come  into  exist- 
ence and  pass  away,  in  the  sense,  namely,  of  mixture  and  sepa- 
ration of  elements.  The  elements,  however,  must  be  more  than 
four;  a  world  so  rich  and  full  of  qualities  as  ours  cannot  be 
explained  by  so  few.  Besides,  earth,  air,  fire,  and  water  are 
not  elements  at  all;  they  are  mixtures  of  other  substances. 
Anaxagoras,  therefore,  assumed,  as  his  utimates,  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  substances  of  specific  quality,  "  having  all  sorts  of  forms 
and  colors  and  tastes, ' '  particles  of  flesh,  hair,  blood,  bone,  silver, 
gold,  and  so  on.  Such  infinitely  small,  but  not  indivisible,  cor- 
puscles are  uncaused  and  changeless,  for  "  how  could  flesh  come 
from  that  which  is  not  flesh?  "  Their  quantity  as  well  as  their 
quality  is  constant,  nothing  can  be  added  or  taken  away.  He 
was  led  to  this  view  by  reflections  of  this  sort:  The  body  is 
made  up  of  skin,  bones,  blood,  flesh,  etc.,  differing  in  lightness 
and  darkness,  in  heat  and  cold,  softness  and  hardness,  and  so 
on.  The  body  is  nourished  by  food,  hence  food  must  contain 
portions  of  such  substances  as  build  up  the  body.  But  since 
food  draws  its  ingredients  from  earth,  water,  air,  and  the  sun, 
the  latter  must  furnish  the  substances  composing  food.  Hence, 
the  so-called  simple  elements  of  Empedocles  are  in  reality  the 
most  complex  things  of  all ;  they  are  veritable  reservoirs  of  in- 
finitely small  particles  of  matter  of  all  kinds :  they  must  contain 
all  the  substances  to  be  found  in  the  organic  body,  otherwise 
how  could  we  account  for  the  presence  of  skin,  bone,  and  blood 
in  the  body  ? 

Originally,  before  the  formation  of  worlds,  infinitely  small 
particles  of  matter,  which  our  philosopher  called  germs  or  seeds 
(spermata)  and  Aristotle  homogeneous  parts  or  homoiomere 
(and  which  we  might  call  molecules),  were  all  mingled  together 
in  a  confused  mass,  filling  the  entire  universe,  and  not  separated 
from  one  another  by  empty  spaces.  The  original  mass  is  a  mix- 
ture of  an  infinite  number  of  infinitely  small  seeds.  The  world, 
as  it  exists  now,  is  the  result  of  the  mingling  and  separation 
of  the  particles  composing  this  mass.  But,  we  inquire,  how  were 
the  seeds  separated  from  the  chaos  in  which  they  lay  scattered, 
and  united  into  a  cosmos  or  world-order  ?  By  mechanical  means, 
or  motion,  by  change  of  place.  What,  however,  caused  them 


EXPLANATION  OF  CHANGE  35 

to  move  ?  They  are  not  endowed  with  life,  as  the  hylozoists  hold, 
nor  are  they  moved  by  Love  and  Hate.  Anaxagoras  finds  the 
clue  to  his  answer  in  the  rotation  of  the  heavenly  bodies  observed 
by  us.  A  rapid  and  forcible  whirling  motion  was  produced  at 
a  certain  point  in  the  mass,  and  separated  the  germs;  this  mo- 
tion extended  farther  and  farther,  bringing  like  particles  to- 
gether, and  will  continue  to  extend  until  the  original  chaotic 
mixture  is  completely  disentangled.  The  first  rotation  caused 
the  separation  of  the  dense  from  the  rare,  the  warm  from  the 
cold,  the  bright  from  the  dark,  the  dry  from  the  moist.  "  The 
dense,  the  moist,  the  cold,  the  dark,  collected  where  the  earth 
now  is ;  the  rare,  the  warm,  the  dry,  the  bright,  departed  toward 
the  farther  part  of  the  ether."  The  process  of  separation  con- 
tinued and  led  to  the  formation  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  which 
are  solid  masses  hurled  from  the  earth  by  the  force  of  the  rota- 
tion, and  to  the  formation  of  different  bodies  on  the  earth.  The 
heat  of  the  sun  gradually  dried  up  the  moist  earth;  and  from 
the  seeds  filling  the  air,  and  deposited  in  the  earth-slime  by  the 
falling  rain,  organic  bodies  arose,  which  Anaxagoras  endowed 
with  souls  in  order  to  explain  their  movements. 

We  see,  the  entire  complex  world-process,  as  it  now  appears, 
is  the  result  of  a  long  series  of  movements,  which  followed  nec- 
essarily from  the  original  rotation.  And  what  caused  that?  To 
account  for  the  initial  motion,  Anaxagoras  has  recourse  to  an 
intelligent  principle,  a  mind  or  nous  (vovf),  a  world-ordering 
spirit,  which  he  conceives  as  an  absolutely  simple  and  homo- 
geneous substance, — not  mixed  with  other  elements  or  seeds,  but 
absolutely  separate  and  distinct  from  them, — that  has  power  over 
matter.  It  is  a  spontaneous  active  being,  the  free  source  of  all 
movement  and  life  in  the  world:  it  knows  all  things,  past,  pres- 
ent, and  future,  it  arranges  all  things  and  is  the  cause  of  all 
things ;  it  rules  over  all  that  has  life,  both  greater  and  less. 

There  is  disagreement  among  interpreters  as  to  whether 
Anaxagoras  meant  by  his  mind  pure  spirit  or  an  exceedingly 
fine  matter,  or  something  not  entirely  material  and  not  entirely 
immaterial.  Although  he  sometimes  expresses  himself  awkwardly 
on  this  point,  calling  mind  the  most  rarefied  of  all  things,  it  is 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  a  distinct  principle,  distinct  in  the 
sense  that  it  never  mingles  with  anything  else.  We  may  de- 


36  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

scribe  his  standpoint  as  a  vague  dualism,  as  a  dualism  not  yet 
sharply  defined.  Mind  initiated  the  world-process,  but  it  also 
seems  to  be  present  in  the  world,  in  organic  forms,  even  in  min- 
erals, wherever  it  is  needed  to  account  for  movements  not  other- 
wise explainable.  It  is  in  the  surrounding  mass,  in  the  things 
that  were  separated,  and  in  things  that  are  being  separated. 
That  is,  to  use  modern  terms,  it  is  both  transcendent  and  imma- 
nent; theism  and  pantheism  are  not  sharply  separated  in  the 
system.  Aristotle  is  right  in  his  criticism:  "  Anaxagoras  uses 
mind  as  a  device  by  which  to  construct  the  universe,  and  when 
he  is  at  a  loss  for  the  cause  why  anything  necessarily  is,  then 
he  drags  it  in,  but  in  other  cases  he  assigns  any  other  cause 
rather  than  mind  for  what  comes  into  being. ' '  *  The  fact  is, 
the  philosopher  endeavored  to  explain  everything  by  mechanical 
principles,  and  had  recourse  to  mind  as  the  intelligent  cause  of 
motion,  only  as  a  last  resort. 

Empedocles  and  Anaxagoras  paved  the  way  for  the  natural- 
scientific  view  of  the  universe  which,  under  the  name  of  the 

atomic  theory,  has  remained  the  most  influential 
Atomists  ,  .  . 

theory  in   science  to   this   day.     Their  teachings, 

however,  needed  revision  in  several  important  respects,  and  this 
they  received  at  the  hands  of  the  Atomists.  The  Atomists  agree 
with  their  predecessors  in  the  acceptance  of  original  and  change- 
less particles  of  reality,  but  they  deny  to  them  the  qualities 
ascribed  to  them  either  by  Empedocles  or  Anaxagoras,  and  reject 
the  view  that  they  are  moved  from  without  by  gods  or  a  mind. 
Earth,  air,  fire,  and  water  are  not  the  "  roots  of  all  things,"  nor 
are  there  numberless  "  seeds  "  of  different  qualities.  Such 
things  are  not  real  elements,  but  are  themselves  composed  of 
simpler  units,  invisible,  impenetrable,  indivisible  spatial  entities 
(atoms),  differing  only  in  form,  weight,  and  size;  and  these 
units  or  atoms  have  an  inherent  motion  of  their  own. 

The  founders  of  the  School  of  Atomists  are  Leucippus  and  Democ- 
ritus.  Of  Leucippus  we  know  almost  nothing;  his  very  existence  has 
been  doubted  by  some,  while  others,  with  Aristotle,  regard  him  as  the 
real  originator  of  the  atomic  system.!  The  latter  view  is,  most  likely,  the 
correct  one.  He  is  said  to  have  come  from  Miletus,  to  have  studied 

*  Translations    by    Fairbanks. 

f  Cf.  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Philosophy. 


EXPLANATION  OF  CHANGE  3T 

under  Zeno  at  Elea,  and  to  have  established  the  school  at  Abdera,  which 
his  pupil  Democritus  made  famous.  His  writings,  which  were  few, 
were,  so  it  is  reported,  incorporated  in  the  works  of  his  disciple. 

Democritus  was  born,  about  460  B.C.,  in  the  commercial  city  of 
Abdera,  situated  on  the  coast  of  Thrace,  and  died  370.  He  traveled 
extensively,  wrote  many  books,  on  physics,  metaphysics,  ethics,  and 
history,  and  took  high  rank  as  a  mathematician. 

Comparatively  few  fragments  of  his  writings  have  come  down  to  us, 
and  we  cannot  always  decide  with  certainty  what  belongs  to  him  and 
what  to  Leucippus.  We  may,  however,  with  the  help  of  the  materials 
at  hand,  form  a  notion  of  the  atomic  theory,  even  though  the  question 
of  its  authorship  be  left  in  doubt. 

Brieger,  Die  Urbewegung  der  Atome;  Lortzing,  Die  ethischen  Frag- 
mente  des  Demokrit;  Natorp,  Die  Ethika  des  Demokritos;  Dryoff,  Demo- 
krit-Studien. 

The  Atomists  agree  with  the  Eleatics  that  absolute  change 
is  impossible ;  reality  is,  in  its  essence,  permanent,  indestructible, 
unchangeable.  At  the  same  time,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  change 
is  going  on,  that  things  are  in  constant  motion.  Now,  motion 
and  change  would  be  unthinkable  without  empty  space,  or  the 
void,  without  what  Parmenides  had  called  non-being.  Hence, 
the  Atomists  insist,  non-being,  or  empty  space,  exists;  space  is 
not  real  in  the  sense  of  being  corporeal,  but  it  exists:  what  is 
(bodies),  is  no  more  real  than  what  is  not  (space).  A  thing 
can  be  real  without  being  a  body.  Being,  or  the  full,  and  non- 
being,  or  the  void,  both  exist.  That  is,  the  real  is  not  one  con- 
tinuous, undivided,  immovable  being,  as  the  Eleatics  held,  but 
a  plurality  of  beings, — an  infinite  number  of  beings,  separated 
from  one  another  by  empty  spaces. 

Each  of  these  beings  is  indivisible  (arojj.ov)t  impenetrable, 
and  simple,  an  atom.  The  atom  is  not  a  mathematical  point, 
or  a  center  of  force,  as  some  moderns  conceive  it,  but  has  ex- 
tension; it  is  not  mathematically  indivisible,  but  physically  in- 
divisible, i.e.,  it  has  no  empty  spaces  in  it.  All  atoms  are  alike 
in  quality ;  they  are  neither  earth,  air,  fire,  or  water,  nor  are  they 
germs  of  specific  kinds.  They  are  simply  very  small,  compact, 
physical  units,  differing  in  shape,  size,  and  weight,  arrangement 
and  position.  They  are  underived,  indestructible,  unchangeable. 
What  they  are,  they  have  always  been  and  ever  shall  be.  In 
other  words,  atoms  are  the  one  indivisible  Being  of  Parmenides 
broken  up  into  small  bits  that  cannot  be  further  divided,  and 
separated  from  each  other  by  empty  spaces. 


38  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Out  of  these  atoms,  as  building  stones  of  reality,  and  empty 
spaces,  the  different  objects  are  formed,  as  comedies  and  trage- 
dies are  composed  of  the  same  letters  of  the  alphabet.  All  bodies 
are  combinations  of  atoms  and  spaces;  origin  means  union; 
destruction,  separation.  Bodies  differ  because  the  atoms  con- 
stituting them  differ  in  the  ways  already  mentioned.  They  act 
on  one  another  by  direct  contact  only,  through  pressure  and 
impact,  or  hy  means  of  emanations  moving  from  one  body  and 
striking  the  other,  action  in  the  distance  being  impossible.  What 
causes  atoms  to  unite  and  separate  is  the  motion  inherent  in 
them.  "  Nothing  happens  without  a  ground,  but  everything 
for  a  reason  and  necessarily. ' '  The  motion  is  uncaused,  like  the 
atoms  themselves ;  they  have  never  been  at  rest,  but  have  been 
in  motion  from  the  very  beginning.  Owing  to  the  many  different 
shapes  of  atoms,  some  having  hooks,  others  eyes,  or  grooves,  or 
humps,  or  depressions,  they  interlace  and  hook  together. 

The  evolution  of  worlds  is  explained  as  follows.  Atoms  are 
heavy  and  fall  downward,  but  the  larger  ones  fall  faster,  thus 
forcing  the  lighter  upward.  This  action  causes  a  whirling  mo- 
tion, which  extends  farther  and  farther,  in  consequence  of  which 
atoms  of  the  same  size  and  weight  collect,  the  heavier  ones  at 
the  center,  forming  air,  then  water,  then  solid  earth ;  the  lighter 
ones  at  the  periphery,  forming  the  heavenly  fires  and  the  ether. 
Multitudes  of  worlds  are  produced  in  this  way,  each  system 
having  a  center  and  forming  a  sphere ;  some  having  neither  sun 
nor  moon,  some  with  larger  planets  or  a  greater  number  of  them. 

The  earth  is  one  of  the  bodies  thus  created.  From  the  moist 
earth,  or  slime,  life  arose.  Fiery  atoms  are  distributed  over  the 
entire  organism,  which  accounts  for  the  heat  of  these  bodies. 
They  are  especially  abundant  in  the  human  soul.  The  soul  is 
composed  of  the  finest,  roundest,  most  nimble,  and  fiery  atoms, 
which  are  scattered  over  the  entire  body, — there  being  always 
one  soul  atom  between  two  other  atoms, — and  which  produce  the 
movements  of  the  body.  Certain  organs  of  the  body  are  the 
seat  of  particular  mental  functions:  the  brain,  of  thought;  the 
heart,  of  anger;  the  liver,  of  desire.  The  resistance  of  every 
object,  whether  alive  or  not,  to  the  pressure  of  surrounding  forces 
is  explained  by  the  presence  in  it  of  such  a  soul.  We  inhale 
and  exhale  soul-atoms;  and  life  exists  so  long  as  this  process 


EXPLANATION  OF  CHANGE  39 

continues.  At  death,  the  soul-atoms  are  scattered;  when  the 
vessel  of  the  soul  is  shattered,  the  soul  spills  out.  We  have  here 
the  crude  beginnings  of  a  physiological  psychology  on  a  mate- 
rialistic basis. 

Sense-perception  is  explained  as  a  change  produced  in  the 
soul  by  the  action  of  emanations,  or  images,  or  idols  (e?dQD\a), 
resembling  the  perceived  body.  These  images  fly  off  from  the 
body  and  give  their  shape  to  the  intervening  air;  that  is,  they 
modify  the  arrangement  of  the  particles  next  to  the  object,  which 
gives  rise  to  a  modification  in  those  immediately  adjoining  it, 
and  so  on,  until  emanations  coming  from  the  sense-organs  are 
reached.  The  like  perceives  the  like,  that  is,  perception  is  pos- 
sible only  when  the  images  passing  from  a  body  are  like  those 
emanating  from  the  sense-organ.  This  theory  of  perception 
resembles,  in  principle,  the  undulatory  and  ether  theories  of 
modern  science. 

By  means  of  such  images,  which  pass  from  objects  everywhere, 
Democritus  explains  dreams,  prophetic  visions,  and  the  belief 
in  gods.  Gods  exist,  but  they  are  mortal  like  men,  though  longer- 
lived.  There  is  a  world-soul,  which  is  composed  of  finer  atoms 
than  the  souls  of  men. 

The  sensible  qualities  (color,  sound,  taste,  smell,  etc.)  which 
we  attribute  to  the  different  bodies  are  not  in  the  things  them- 
selves, but  merely  effects  of  combinations  of  atoms  on  our  sense- 
organs.  Atoms,  as  such,  have  no  qualities  other  than  those  we 
have  already  mentioned,  impenetrability,  shape,  and  size.  Hence, 
sense-perception  does  not  yield  us  a  true  knowledge  of  things; 
it  tells  us  merely  how  these  affect  us.  (We  have  here  the  dis- 
tinction between  primary  and  secondary  qualities,  which  is  made 
in  modern  philosophy.)  We  cannot  see  atoms  as  they  are;  we 
can,  however,  think  them.  Sense-perception  is  obscure  knowl- 
edge; thought,  which  transcends  our  sense-perceptions  and  ap- 
pearances, and  reaches  the  atom,  is  the  only  genuine  knowledge. 
Democritus  is  a  rationalist,  as,  indeed,  all  the  early  Greek  phi- 
losophers are.  But  thought  is  not,  therefore,  independent  of 
sense-perception;  indeed,  "  the  genuine  way  of  knowing,  which 
has  a  finer  organ  of  thought,"  begins  when  sense-experience  can 
carry  us  no  farther,  "  when  the  investigation  must  be  carried 
farther  into  that  which  is  still  finer  "  than  the  limits  placed 


40  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

against  our  sense-knowledge.  Besides,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  soul  (fyuxr\}  and  reason  (rov$)  are  the  same  thing  for 
Democritus. 

In  the  ethical  fragments  ascribed  to  Democritus,  we  can  trace 
the  outlines  of  a  refined  hedonistic  ethics.  The  true  end  of  life 
is  happiness,  which  he  describes  as  an  inner  state  of  satisfac- 
tion or  pleasure,  depending  on  the  tranquillity,  harmony,  and 
fearlessness  of  the  soul.  This  does  not  depend  on  material  goods, 
not  on  wealth  or  the  pleasures  of  the  body, — for  these  are  short 
and  productive  of  pains,  and  require  repetition; — but  on  mod- 
eration in  pleasure  and  symmetry  of  life.  The  less  we  desire, 
the  less  apt  we  are  to  be  disappointed.  The  best  way  to  seek 
the  goal  is  to  exercise  the  mental  powers, — by  reflection  and  the 
contemplation  of  beautiful  acts. 

All  virtues  are  valuable  in  so  far  as  they  realize  the  highest 
good,  happiness ;  chief  among  them  are  justice  and  benevolence. 
Envy,  jealousy,  and  bitterness  of  mind  create  discord  and  harm 
everybody.  We  should,  however,  do  right,  not  from  fear  of 
punishment,  but  from  a  sense  of  duty.  To  be  good,  one /must 
not  merely  refrain  from  doing  wrong,  but  not  even  desire  it. 
"  You  can  tell  the  man  who  rings  true  from  the  man  who  rings 
false,  not  by  his  deeds  alone,  but  also  by  his  desires."  "  The 
right-minded  man,  ever  inclined  to  righteous  and  lawful  deeds, 
is  joyous  day  and  night,  and  strong,  and  free  from  care."  We 
ought  to  serve  the  State  because  "  a  well-administered  State  is 
our  greatest  safeguard."  "  When  the  State  is  in  a  healthy  con- 
dition, all  things  prosper;  when  it  is  corrupt,  all  things  go  to 


PROBLEMS  OF  KNOWLEDGE  AND  CONDUCT 

7.   AGE  OP  THE  SOPHISTS 

Philosophy  had  made  great  progress  since  the  days  of  the 
theogonies  and  cosmogonies.  The  old  conceptions  of  the  world 
and  of  life  had  been  profoundly  transformed  under  the  influ- 
ence of  philosophy ;  to  what  extent,  the  contrast  between  the 
naive  theory  of  a  universe  full  of  gods  and  occult  mythical 

*  Translations  taken  from  Bakewell,  Source-Book. 


AGE  OF  THE  SOPHISTS  41 

forms  and  the  machine-theory  of  the  Atomists  plainly  shows. 
The  spirit  of  free  inquiry,  however,  was  not  confined  to  the  phi- 
losophers' schools,  but,  as  was  inevitable,  perme- 
ated other  fields  of  thought ;  there,  too,  new  concep- 
tions  were  gradually  displacing  the  old.  We  may 
note  the  change  in  the  dramatic  poetry  of  the  Greeks :  in  ^Eschylus 
(525-456  B.C.),  Sophocles  (496-405),  and  Euripides  (480-406); 
their  views  of  life  and  religion  are  deepened  and  broadened  by 
criticism  and  reflection.  We  see  it  in  the  writings  of  the  historians 
and  the  geographers:  the  old  legendary  tales  and  superstitions, 
which  had  formerly  found  such  ready  acceptance,  are  discred- 
ited, and  Herodotus  (born  480)  paves  the  way  for  a  critical 
study  of  history,  of  which  Thucydides  (born  471)  is  the  finest 
classical  representative.  In  medicine,  the  old  fantastic  ideas 
and  practices  are  abandoned  by  the  leaders  of  the  craft ;  the  need 
of  a  knowledge  of  nature  and  of  man  is  felt,  and  the  physical 
theories  of  the  philosophers,  many  of  whom  were  themselves 
physicians,  are  applied  in  the  art  of  healing.  The  name  of 
Hippocrates  (born  460)  stands  out  as  a  landmark  of  the  prog- 
ress made  by  Greece  in  the  direction  of  a  scientific  study  of 
medicine.  The  investigations  of  the  physicians  came  to  be  of 
great  value  to  students  of  philosophy,  in  showing  the  importance 
of  observation  and  experience.* 

We  now  reach  a  period  in  the  history  of  Greek  philosophy 
in  which  the  construction  of  great  systems  of  thought  comes 
to  a  temporary  stop.  Some  thinkers  simply  continue  and  de- 
velop the  teachings  of  the  existing  schools,  others  seek  to  com- 
bine the  doctrines  of  the  earlier  philosophers  with  those  of  later 
masters  in  eclectic  fashion;  some  turn  their  attention  to  the 
natural-scientific  investigations  which  were  being  pursued  by 
the  schools  of  medicine,  others  are  interested  in  the  study  of 
the  mental  disciplines  forming  the  basis  of  morals,  law,  and 
politics.  As  Gomperz  points  out,  the  zeal  for  investigation  was 
intense  and  extended  to  all  sorts  of  problems,  including  ques- 
tions concerning  the  origin  and  purpose  of  the  State,  the  prin- 
ciples of  conduct,  religion,  art,  and  education.  Specialistic 
manuals  were  being  produced  in  abundance.  Every  form  of 
human  activity,  from  the  cooking  of  food  to  the  creation  of 

*Cf.  Gomperz,  The  Greek  Thinkers,  vol.  I;  Moon,  Relation  of  Medicine 
to  Philosophy. 


42  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

works  of  art,  from  taking  a  walk  to  carrying  on  war,  was  for- 
mulated into  rules  and,  if  possible,  reduced  to  principles.  Phi- 
losophy was  leavening  the  lump.  The  spirit  of  independent 
reflection  and  criticism,  so  characteristic  of  the  beginnings  of 
philosophy  in  Greece,  had  invaded  every  field  of  study,  and 
was  preparing  the  way  for  another  and  greater  era  of  specu- 
lative thought.  But  the  human  mind  had  to  follow  many  false 
paths  and  lose  itself  in  many  blind  alleys  before  the  culmination 
was  reached.  We  shall  attempt  to  describe  the  fortunes  of 
philosophy  during  the  second  half  of  the  fifth  century  B.C.,  a 
century  of  great  significance  for  the  history  of  Greece  and  civili- 
zation in  general. 

We  have  observed  in  the  political,  moral,  religious,  and  philo- 
sophical development  of  the  Hellenic  people  a  growing  tendency 
toward  freedom  and  individualism.     The  critical 

,  attitude  toward  life  and  human  institutions  had 
rmligntenment 

already  made  itself  felt  in  their  early  poetry,  faintly 

in  Homer,  with  increasing  force  in  Hesiod  and  the  poets  of  the 
seventh  and  sixth  centuries  B.C.  These  men  meditated  upon 
the  manners  and  customs  of  their  times,  upon  the  social  and 
political  institutions,  upon  the  religious  ideas  and  practices, 
upon  the  origin,  nature,  and  behavior  of  the  gods.  They  de- 
veloped a  purer  conception  of  deity,  and,  in  their  theogonies 
and  cosmogonies,  prepared  the  way  for  the  coming  of  philosophy. 
In  the  philosophies  of  the  sixth  century,  the  tendency  to  inde- 
pendent thinking  appears  almost  full-fledged.  During  this 
century  and  the  first  half  of  the  fifth,  natural  science  and  nature- 
philosophy  are  the  order  of  the  day;  the  inquiring  mind  turns 
outward  to  the  world  of  physical  things.  The  effort  is  made 
to  understand  the  meaning  of  the  cosmos;  system  after  system 
is  offered  to  solve  the  riddle  of  the  universe ;  the  object  of  chief 
interest  is  the  world  and  its  ways,  man's  place  in  nature  being 
determined  by  the  conclusions  reached  in  metaphysics. 

The  political,  economic,  and  intellectual  experiences  of  the 
Greek  people  during  the  fifth  century  were  highly  favorable 
to  the  development  of  the  spirit  of  enlightenment  which  char- 
acterized their  philosophers.  The  Persian  wars  (500-449  B.C.) 
had  left  Athens  the  mistress  of  the  sea  and  a  world-power,  as 
well  as  the  commercial,  intellectual,  and  artistic  center  of  Greece. 


AGE  OF  THE  SOPHISTS  43 

Poets,  artists,  teachers,  and  philosophers  now  entered  her  gates 
and  helped  to  entertain  and  instruct  her  wealthy  citizens ;  mag- 
nificent buildings  and  statues  adorned  the  city,  and  the  theaters 
rang  with  the  plaudits  of  a  self-satisfied  people.  When  we  call 
to  mind  the  illustrious  men  who  dwelt  within  the  city-walls,  dur- 
ing the  second  half  of  the  fifth  century, — Pericles,  Anaxagoras, 
Thucydides,  Phidias,  Sophocles,  Euripides,  Aristophanes,  Hip- 
pocrates, Socrates, — we  can  well  understand  the  proud  words 
in  the  great  funeral  oration  delivered  by  Pericles  that  Athens 
was  the  school  for  Greece. 

The  great  economic  changes  and  the  establishment  of  demo- 
cratic institutions,  resulting  from  the  new  order  of  things,  gave 
a  further  impetus  to  independent  thought  and  action,  and  with 
these  there  came  the  desire  for  power  and  the  things  that  bring 
power:  wealth,  fame,  culture,  efficiency,  and  success.  The  tradi- 
tional views  of  religion,  morality,  politics,  philosophy,  science, 
and  art  were  subjected  to  criticism;  the  old  foundations  were 
examined  and  in  many  cases  torn  up ;  the  spirit  that  denies  was 
abroad  in  the  land.  The  demand  for  instruction  in  the  new 
subjects  of  study  grew  strong ;  public  life  offered  a  splendid  field 
for  men  skilled  in  persuading  and  convincing  the  people,  and 
preparation  in  the  arts  of  rhetoric,  oratory,  and  dialectics  became 
a  practical  necessity. 

The  age  we  have  been  describing  was  an  age  of  enlightenment 
(Auflclarung) .  The  attitude  of  mind  engendered  could  not  fail 
to  encourage  the  growth  of  individualism.  The  individual 
began  to  cut  loose  from  the  authority  of  the  group,  to  strike  out 
for  himself,  to  think  his  own  thoughts  and  to  work  out  his  own 
salvation,  independently  of  the  old  traditions.  This  critical 
habit  of  thought,  which  was  good  enough  in  its  way,  assumed  an 
exaggerated  form  in  some  quarters  and  culminated  in  mere  quib- 
bling and  hair-splitting;  in  others,  it  tended  to  degenerate  into 
intellectual  and  practical  subjectivism:  what  I  happen  to  think 
is  true,  is  true ;  what  I  happen  to  believe  is  right,  is  right.  One 
man's  opinion  is  as  good  as  another's;  one  man's  way  of  acting 
is  as  good  as  another's.  It  is  not  surprising,  under  the  circum- 
stances, that  no  man's  opinion  should  have  been  esteemed  very 
highly,  that  skepticism  should  have  flourished  in  the  theoretical 
sphere,  and  that  the  gospel  of  self-interest  should  have  been 


44  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

preached  in  the  field  of  practice.  An  often  quoted  passage  from 
Thucydides,  though  perhaps  an  exaggeration,  throws  some  light 
upon  a  degenerate  phase  of  the  new  movement:  "  The  common 
meaning  of  words  was  turned  about  at  men 's  pleasure ;  the  most 
reckless  bravo  was  deemed  the  most  desirable  friend;  a  man  of 
prudence  and  moderation  was  styled  a  coward;  a  man  who  lis- 
tened to  reason  was  a  good-for-nothing  simpleton.  People  were 
trusted  exactly  in  proportion  to  their  violence  and  unscrupulous- 
ness,  and  no  one  was  so  popular  as  the  successful  conspirator, 
except  perhaps  one  who  had  been  clever  enough  to  outwit  him 
at  his  own  trade,  but  any  one  who  honestly  attempted  to  remove 
the  causes  of  such  treacheries  was  considered  a  traitor  to  his 
party.  As  for  oaths,  no  one  imagined  they  were  to  be  kept 
a  moment  longer  than  occasion  required;  it  was  in  fact  an 
added  pleasure  to  destroy  your  enemy  if  you  had  managed  to 
catch  him  through  his  trusting  to  your  word. ' '  *  Aristophanes, 
in  his  comedies,  also  shows  us  the  seamy  side  of  the  new  civili- 
zation. According  to  him,  says  Benn,  "  the  ancient  discipline 
had  in  time  become  very  much  relaxed.  The  rich  were  idle  and 
extravagant;  the  poor  mutinous;  young  men  were  growing  more 
and  more  insolent  to  their  elders;  religion  was  derided;  all 
classes  were  animated  by  a  common  desire  to  make  money  and 
to  spend  it  on  sensual  enjoyment."  f 

This  was  one  side  of  the  picture,  the  picture  of  the  free- 
thinking,  individualistic,  culture  and  wealth  seeking  child 
of  the  age.  On  the  other  side  we  see  the  conservative,  the 
representative  of  the  good  old  times,  who  opposes  the  new 
thought,  the  new  education,  the  new  virtues,  or  rather  the  new 
vices,  because  intellectual  pursuits  seemed  to  him  to  lead  "  to 
irreligion  and  immorality,  to  make  young  people  quite  unlike 
their  grandfathers,  and  were  somehow  connected  with  loose  com- 
pany and  a  fast  life. ' '  $ 

The  new  movement  was  represented  by  the  Sophists.     The 

term  Sophist  originally  meant  a  wise  and  skilful  man,  but  in 

^  the  time  we  are  describing  it  came  to  be  applied 

to  the  professional  teachers  who  traveled  about, 

giving  instruction  for  pay  in  the  art  of  thinking  and  speaking, 

*  History  of  the  Peloponnesian  War,  Bk.  Ill,  82. 

f  The  Greek  Philosophers,  Vol.  I,  p.  74.  $  Benn,  op.  cit.,  p.  93. 


AGE  OF  THE  SOPHISTS  45 

and  preparing  young  men  for  political  life.*  To  this  task  they 
devoted  themselves  with  feverish  zeal.  "  If  you  associate  with 
me,"  Protagoras  is  reported  to  have  said  to  a  young  man,  "  on 
the  very  day  you  will  return  a  better  man  than  you  came. ' '  And 
when  Socrates  asks  how  he  is  going  to  bring  this  about,  he 
answers :  *  *  If  he  comes  to  me,  he  will  learn  that  which  he  comes 
to  learn.  And  this  is  prudence  in  affairs,  private  as  well  as 
public;  he  will  learn  to  order  his  house  in  the  best  manner,  and 
he  will  be  able  to  speak  and  act  for  the  best  in  the  affairs  of 
the  State."  f  In  order  to  fit  himself  for  a  career,  it  was  neces- 
sary for  the  young  man  to  perfect  himself  in  dialectics,  gram- 
mar, rhetoric,  and  oratory.  Such  subjects  the  Sophists  began 
to  study  with  a  practical  end  in  view,  and  thus  broke  the  soil 
for  new  fields  of  investigation.  They  also  turned  their  attention 
to  moral  and  political  questions,  and  so  gave  the  impetus  to  a 
more  systematic  and  thorough  treatment  of  ethics  and  the  theory 
of  the  State.  As  the  moral  earnestness  of  the  times  declined, 
and  the  desire  to  succeed  at  all  hazards  intensified,  some  of  the 
later  Sophists,  in  their  anxiety  to  make  their  pupils  efficient, 
often  went  to  extremes;  it  became  the  object  of  instruction  to 
teach  them  how  to  overcome  an  opponent  in  debate  by  fair  means 
or  foul,  to  make  the  worse  appear  the  better  cause,  to  confuse 
him  with  all  sorts  of  logical  fallacies,  and  to  render  him  ridicu- 
lous in  the  eyes  of  the  chuckling  public. 

The  critical  spirit  of  the  age,  which  had,  in  a  large  measure, 
been  fostered  by  philosophy,  began  to  react  upon  philosophy 
itself  and  led  to  a  temporary  depreciation  of  metaphysical  specu- 
lation. Thought  weighs  itself  in  the  balance  and  finds  itself 
wanting;  philosophy  digs  its  own  grave.  No  two  philosophers, 
so  it  is  argued,  seem  to  agree  in  their  answers  to  the  question 
of  the  essence  of  reality.  One  makes  it  water,  another  air,  an- 
other fire,  another  earth,  and  yet  another  all  of  them  together; 
one  declares  change  to  be  impossible,  another  says  there  is  noth- 
ing but  change.  Now,  if  there  is  no  change,  there  can  be  no 
knowledge :  we  cannot  predicate  anything  of  anything,  for  how 

*The  name  gradually  became  a  term  of  reproach,  partly  because  the 
Sophists  took  pay,  partly  owing  to  the  radicalism  of  some  of  the  later 
Sophists,  which  scandalized  the  conservative  element. 

f  Plato's  Protagoras. 


46  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

can  the  one  be  the  many?  If  everything  changes,  there  can  be 
no  knowledge  either;  for  where  nothing  persists,  how  can  we 
predicate  anything  of  anything?  And  if  we  can  know  things, 
only  so  far  as  they  affect  our  senses,  as  some  hold,  again  we 
cannot  know,  for  then  the  nature  of  things  eludes  our  grasp. 
The  upshot  of  it  all  is,  we  cannot  solve  the  riddle  of  the  universe. 
The  truth  begins  to  dawn  on  the  Sophist  that  the  mind  of  man 
is  an  important  factor  in  the  process  of  knowing.  Thinkers 
before  him  had  assumed  the  competence  of  human  reason  to 
attain  truth;  with  all  their  critical  acumen  they  had  forgotten 
to  criticise  the  intellect  itself.  The  Sophist  now  turns  the  light 
on  the  knowing  subject  and  concludes  that  knowledge  depends 
upon  the  particular  knower,  that  what  seems  true  to  him  is  true 
for  him,  that  there  is  no  objective  truth,  but  only  subjective 
opinion.  "  Man  is  the  measure  of  all  things/'  so  Protagoras 
taught.  That  is,  the  individual  is  a  law  unto  himself  in  matters 
of  knowledge.  And  from  this  theoretical  skepticism,  the  step 
is  not  far  to  ethical  skepticism,  to  the  view  that  man  is  a  law 
unto  himself  in  matters  of  conduct.  If  knowledge  is  impossible, 
then  knowledge  of  right  and  wrong  is  impossible,  there  is  no 
universal  right  and  wrong :  conscience  is  a  mere  subjective  affair. 
These  consequences  were  not  drawn  by  the  older  Sophists,  by 
men  like  Protagoras  (born  about  490  B.C.)  and  Gorgias,  but 
they  were  drawn  by  some  of  the  younger  radical  set,  by  Polus, 
Thrasymachus,  Callicles,  and  Euthydemus,  who  are  spokesmen 
in  Plato's  Dialogues.  Morality  to  them  is  a  mere  convention; 
it  represents  the  will  of  those  who  have  the  power  to  enforce 
their  demands  on  their  fellows.  The  rules  of  morals  are  con- 
trary to  "  nature."  According  to  some,  laws  were  made  by  the 
weak,  the  majority,  in  order  to  restrain  the  strong,  the  "  best," 
to  hinder  the  fittest  from  getting  their  due :  the  laws,  therefore, 
violate  the  principle  of  natural  justice.  Natural  right  is  the 
right  of  the  stronger.  According  to  others,  the  laws  are  a 
species  of  class  legislation ;  they  are  made  by  the  few,  the  strong, 
+-he  privileged,  in  order  to  protect  their  own  interests.  That 
is,  it  is  to  the  advantage  of  the  overman  that  others  obey  the 
laws  so  that  he  can  the  more  profitably  break  them. 

"  The  makers  of  the  laws,"  says  Callicles  in  the  Platonic  dialogue 
Gorgias,  "  are  the  majority  who  are  weak ;  and  they  make  laws  and 


AGE  OF  THE  SOPHISTS  4,7 

distribute  praises  and  censures  with  a  view  to  themselves  and  their 
own  interests;  and  they  terrify  the  stronger  sort  of  men,  and  those 
who  are  able  to  get  the  better  of  them,  in  order  that  they  may  not  get 
the  better  of  them;  and  they  say  that  dishonesty  is  shameful  and  unjust; 
meaning  by  the  word  injustice  the  desire  of  a  man  to  have  more  than 
his  neighbors ;  for  knowing  their  own  inferiority,  I  suspect  that  they  are 
too  glad  of  equality.  And  therefore  the  endeavor  to  have  more  than 
the  many,  is  Conventionally  said  to  be  shameful  and  unjust,  and  is 
called  injustice,  whereas  nature  herself  intimates  that  it  is  just  for 
the  better  to  have  more  than  the  worse,  the  more  powerful  than  the 
weaker;  and  in  many  ways  she  shows,  among  men  as  well  as  among 
animals,  and  indeed  among  whole  cities  and  races,  that  justice  consists 
in  the  superior  ruling  over  and  having  more  than  the  inferior.  For 
on  what  principle  of  justice  did  Xerxes  invade  Hellas,  or  his  father 
the  Scythians?  (not  to  speak  of  numberless  other  examples).  Nay,  but 
these  are  the  men  who  act  according  to  nature;  yes,  by  heaven,  and 
according  to  the  law  of  nature :  not,  perhaps,  according  to  that  artificial 
law,  which  we  invent  and  impose  upon  our  fellows,  of  whom  we  take 
the  best  and  the  strongest  from  their  youth  upwards,  and  tame  them  like 
young  lions, — charming  them  with  the  sound  of  the  voice,  and  saying 
to  them,  that  with  equality  they  must  be  content,  and  that  the  equal 
is  the  honorable  and  the  just.  But  if  there  were  a  man  who  had 
sufficient  force,  he  would  shake  off  and  break  through,  and  escape  from 
all  this;  he  would  trample  underfoot  all  our  formulas  and  spells  and 
charms  and  all  our  laws  which  are  against  nature:  the  slave  would 
rise  in  rebellion  and  be  lord  over  us,  and  the  light  of  natural  justice 
would  shine  forth." 

Thrasymachus  talks  in  the  same  strain  in  the  Republic: 

"  The  just  is  always  a  loser  in  comparison  with  the  unjust.  First  of 
all,  in  private  contracts:  wherever  the  unjust  is  the  partner  of  the 
just  you  will  find  that  when  the  partnership  is  dissolved,  the  unjust 
man  has  always  more  and  the  just  less.  Secondly,  in  their  dealings 
with  the  State:  when  there  is  an  income-tax,  the  just  man  will  pay 
more  and  the  unjust  less  on  the  same  amount  of  income;  and  when 
there  is  anything  to  be  received  the  one  gains  nothing  and  the  other 
much.  Observe  also  what  happens  when  they  take  an  office;  there 
is  the  just  man  neglecting  his  affairs  and  perhaps  suffering  other 
losses,  and  getting  nothing  out  of  the  public,  because  he  is  just;  more- 
over he  is  hated  by  his  friends  and  acquaintances  for  refusing  to 
serve  them  in  unlawful  ways.  But  all  this  is  reversed  in  the  case 
of  the  unjust  man.  I  am  speaking  as  before  of  injustice  on  the  large 
scale  in  which  the  advantage  of  the  unjust  is  most  apparent;  and  my 
meaning  will  be  most  clearly  seen  if  we  turn  to  that  highest  form 
of  injustice  in  which  the  criminal  is  the  happiest  of  men,  and  the 
sufferers  or  those  who  refuse  to  do  injustice  are  the  most  miserable, — 
that  is  to  say  tyranny,  which  by  fraud  and  force  takes  away  the 
property  of  others,  not  little  by  little  but  wholesale;  comprehending  in 
one,  things  sacred  as  well  as  profane,  private  and  public;  for  which 


48  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

acts  of  wrong,  if  he  were  detected  perpetrating  any  of  them  singly, 
he  would  be  punished  and  incur  great  disgrace, — they  who  do  such 
wrong  in  particular  cases  are  called  robbers  of  temples,  and  man- 
stealers  and  burglars  and  swindlers  and  thieves.  But  when  a  man 
besides  taking  away  the  money  of  the  citizens  has  made  slaves  of  them, 
then,  instead  of  these  names  of  reproach,  he  is  termed  happy  and 
blessed,  not  only  by  the  citizens,  but  by  all  who  have  heard  of  the 
consummation  of  injustice.  For  mankind  censure  injustice,  fearing 
that  they  may  be  the  victims  of  it,  and  not  because  they  shrink  from 
committing  it.  And  thus,  as  I  have  shown,  Socrates,  injustice,  when 
on  a  sufficient  scale,  has  more  strength  and  freedom  and  mastery  than 
justice;  and,  as  I  said  at  first,  justice  is  the  interest  of  the  stronger, 
whereas  injustice  is  a  man's  own  profit  and  interest."  * 

Owing  to  the  hostile  criticisms  of  Plato   and  Aristotle,  as 

well   as   to   the   nihilistic   teachings   of   some   of  the   younger 

Sophists,  the  importance  of  the   Sophistic  move- 

ofgSofi  hist66  ment  in  the  history  of  Bought  was  long  misjudged. 
It  is  only  since  Hegel  and  Grote  attempted  to  give 
a  fairer  estimate  of  these  thinkers  that  justice  has  been  done 
them.  There  was  good  and  there  was  evil  in  their  teachings. 
Reflection  and  criticism  are  indispensable  to  sounder  concep- 
tions in  philosophy,  religion,  morals,  politics,  and  in  all  fields 
of  human  endeavor.  The  appeal  to  reason  was  commendable  in 
itself,  but  the  fault  lay  in  the  inability  of  Sophistry  to  use  the 
instrument  of  reason  in  anything  like  a  constructive  way.  The 
Sophists  brought  philosophy  down  from  heaven  to  the  dwellings 
of  men,  as  Cicero  said,  and  turned  the  attention  from  external 
nature  to  man  himself;  with  them  the  proper  study  of  mankind 
was  man.  But  they  failed  to  recognize  the  universal  element 
in  man;  they  did  not  see  the  forest  for  the  trees,  they  did  not 
see  man  for  men.  They  exaggerated  the  differences  in  human 
judgments  and  ignored  the  agreements.  They  laid  too  much 
stress  on  the  illusion  of  the  senses.  They  emphasized  the  acci- 
dental, subjective,  and  purely  personal  elements  in  human  knowl- 
edge and  conduct,  and  failed  to  do  justice  to  the  objective 
element,  the  principles  which  are  accepted  by  all. 

Nevertheless,  their  criticisms  of  knowledge  made  necessary  a 
profounder  study  of  the  problem  of  knowledge.  The  older 
speculators  had  naively  and  dogmatically  assumed  the  compe- 
tence of  the  mind  to  reach  truth;  in  denying  the  possibility  of 

*  Jowett's  translation  of  Plato's  Dialogues. 


AGE  OF  THE  SOPHISTS  49 

sure  and  universal  knowledge,  the  Sophists  forced  philosophy 
to  examine  the  thinking  process  itself  and  opened  the  way  for 
a  theory  of  knowledge.  In  employing  all  sorts  of  logical  fal- 
lacies and  sophisms,  they  made  necessary  a  study  of  the  correct 
laws  of  thought  and  hastened  the  birth  of  logic. 

The  same  thing  may  be  said  of  moral  knowledge  and  prac- 
tice. The  appeal  to  the  individual  conscience  was  sound:  from 
mere  blind,  unintelligent  following  of  custom,  morality  was 
raised  to  the  stage  of  reflective  personal  choice.  When,  how- 
ever, the  appeal  became  an  appeal  to  mere  subjective  opinion 
and  self-interest,  it  struck  a  false  note.  Independence  of  thought 
easily  degenerates  into  intellectual  and  moral  anarchy;  indi- 
vidualism, into  pure  selfishness.  Yet  in  this  field,  again, 
Sophistry  rendered  a  service:  radical  criticism  of  the  common 
notions  of  right  and  wrong  and  public  and  private  justice,  made 
necessary  a  profounder  study  of  ethics  and  politics, — a  study 
that  was  soon  to  bear  wonderful  fruit. 

The  great  value  of  the  entire  Sophistic  movement  consisted 
in  this:  it  awakened  thought  and  challenged  philosophy,  reli- 
gion, custom,  morals,  and  the  institutions  based  on  them,  to 
justify  themselves  to  reason.  In  denying  the  possibility  of  knowl- 
edge, the  Sophists  made  it  necessary  for  knowledge  to  justify 
itself:  they  compelled  philosophy  to  seek  a  criterion  of  knowl- 
edge. In  attacking  the  traditional  morality,  they  compelled 
morality  to  defend  itself  against  skepticism  and  nihilism,  and 
to  find  a  rational  principle  of  right  and  wrong.  In  attacking 
the  traditional  religious  beliefs,  they  pressed  upon  thinkers  the 
need  of  developing  more  consistent  and  purer  conceptions  of 
God.  And  in  criticising  the  State  and  its  laws,  they  made  in- 
evitable the  development  of  a  philosophic  theory  of  the  State. 
It  became  necessary  to  build  upon  more  solid  foundations,  to 
go  back  to  first  principles.  What  is  knowledge,  what  is  truth? 
What  is  right,  what  is  the  good?  What  is  the  true  conception 
of  God?  What  is  the  meaning  and  purpose  of  the  State  and 
human  institutions?  And  these  problems,  finally,  forced  the 
thinkers  of  Greece  to  reconsider,  from  new  angles,  the  old  ques- 
tion, which  had  been  temporarily  obscured,  but  which  no 
people  can  long  ignore:  What  is  the  world  and  man's  place  in 
nature  ? 


50  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Grote,  History  of  Greece,  vol.  VII;  Hegel,  History  of  Philosophy, 
vol.  II;  Zeller,  Philosophy  of  the  Greeks,  vol.  II;  Sidgwick,  The 
Sophists,  in  Journal  of  Philology,  vols.  IV  and  V,  1872,  1873 ;  Gomperz, 
op.  tit.,  vol.  I ;  Benn,  op.  cit.,  vol.  I ;  articles  on  "  Sophists,"  "  Socrates," 
and  "  Plato  "  in  Britannica;  Schanz,  Die  Sophisten. 


8.   SOCRATES 

We  have  described  the  situation,  as  it  began  to  shape  itself  toward 
the  end  of  the  fifth  century  B.C.  A  man  was  needed  to  bring  order 
into  the  intellectual  and  moral  chaos  of  the  age,  to 
Life  of  sift  the  true  from  the  false,  the  essential  from  the 

Socrates  accidental,  to  set  men  right  and  to  help  them  to  see 

things  in  their  right  relations, — a  peacemaker  who  might 
hold  the  balance  even  between  the  ultra-conservatives  and  the  ultra- 
liberals.  The  man  appeared  in  Socrates,  one  of  the  greatest  figures 
in  the  history  of  thought,  the  intellectual  father  of  a  line  of  philosophers 
whose  ideas  and  ideals  dominated  Western  civilization  for  two  thousand 
years,  and  continue  to  influence  speculation  to  this  day. 

Socrates  was  born  in  Athens,  469  B.C.,  the  son  of  poor  parents,  his 
father  being  a  sculptor,  his  mother  a  midwife.  How  he  acquired  an 
education,  we  do  not  know,  but  his  love  of  knowledge  evidently  created 
opportunities  in  the  cultured  city  for  intellectual  growth.  He  took 
up  the  occupation  of  his  father,  but  soon  felt  "  a  divine  vocation  to 
examine  himself  by  questioning  other  men."  It  was  his  custom  to 
engage  in  converse  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men  and  women, 
on  the  streets,  in  the  market-place,  in  the  gymnasia,  discussing  the 
most  diverse  topics :  war,  politics,  marriage,  friendship,  love,  house- 
keeping, the  arts  and  trades,  poetry,  religion,  science,  and,  particularly, 
moral  matters.  Nothing  human  was  foreign  to  him.  Life  with  all 
its  interests  became  the  subject  of  his  inquiries,  and  only  the  physical 
side  of  the  world  left  him  cold;  he  declared  that  he  could  learn 
nothing  from  trees  and  stones.  He  was  subtle  and  keen,  quick  to 
discover  the  fallacies  in  an  argument  and  skilful  in  steering  the  con- 
versation to  the  very  heart  of  the  matter.  Though  kindly  and  gentle 
in  disposition,  and  brimming  over  with  good  humor,  he  delighted  in 
exposing  the  quacks  and  humbugs  of  his  time  and  pricking  their  empty 
bubbles  with  his  wit. 

Socrates  exemplified  in  his  conduct  the  virtues  which  he  taught:  he 
was  a  man  of  remarkable  self-control,  magnanimous,  noble,  frugal,  and 
capable  of  great  endurance;  and  his  wants  were  few.  He  gave  ample 
proof,  during  his  life  of  seventy  years,  of  physical  and  moral  courage, 
in  war  and  in  the  performance  of  his  political  duties.  His  bearing  at 
his  trial  furnishes  an  impressive  picture  of  moral  dignity,  firmness, 
and  consistency;  he  did  what  he  thought  was  right,  without  fear  or 
favor,  and  died  as  beautifully  as  he  had  lived,  with  charity  for  all 
and  malice  toward  none;  condemned  by  his  own  people,  on  a  false 
charge  of  atheism  and  of  corrupting  the  youth,  to  drink  the  poison 
hemlock  (399  B.C.).  His  respect  for  authority  and  his  loyalty  to 


SOCRATES  51 

the  State  he  proved  by  obeying  the  laws  himself  and  insisting  that 
others  obey  them.  When,  after  his  condemnation,  friends  arranged 
a  plan  of  escape,  he  refused  to  profit  by  it,  on  the  ground  that  he 
had  enjoyed  the  benefits  of  the  laws  during  his  whole  life  and  could 
not,  in  his  old  age,  prove  disloyal  to  his  benefactors. 

In  personal  appearance  Socrates  was  not  prepossessing.  He  was 
short,  stocky,  and  stout,  blear-eyed  and  snub-nosed;  he  had  a  large 
mouth  and  thick  lips,  and  was  careless  in  his  dress,  clumsy  and  uncouth, 
resembling  in  his  physical  make-up  a  Satyr,  for  which  reason  Alcibiades, 
in  Plato's  Symposium,  likened  him  to  the  busts  of  Silenus.  But  all 
these  peculiarities  were  forgotten  when  he  began  to  speak,  so  great 
were  his  personal  charm  and  the  effect  of  his  brilliant  conversation. 

Xenophon,  Memorabilia,  transl.  by  Dakyns;  Plato's  Dialogues,  espe- 
cially Protagoras,  Apology,  Crito,  Phado,  Symposium,  Thecetetus, 
transl.  by  Jowett;  Aristotle,  Metaphysics  (I,  6;  XIII,  4),  transl.  in  Bohn 
Library,  also  by  W.  S.  Ross;  Aristotle,  Ethics,  transl.  by  Welldon.  A. 
E.  Taylor,  Varia  Socratica,  criticises  the  traditional  interpretations  of 
Socrates.  See  also  Joel,  Der  echte  und  der  xenophontische  Socrates. 

Works  mentioned  under  Sophists,  p.  50 ;  Chaignet,  La  vie  de  Socrate; 
Labriola,  La  dottrina  di  Socrate;  Fouillee,  La  philosophie  de  Socrate, 
2  vols. ;  Zuccante,  Socrate ;  E.  Pfleiderer,  Sokrates,  Plato  und  ihr$ 
Schuler;  Pohlmann,  Sokrates  und  sein  Volk;  Doring,  Die  Lehre  de& 
Sokrates  als  soziales  Reformsystem;  Wildauer,  Sokrates'  Lehre  vom 
Willen.  See  the  extensive  bibliography  in  Ueberweg-Heinze,  §  33. 


The  chief  concern  of  Socrates  was  to  meet  the  challenge  of 
Sophistry,  which,  in  undermining  knowledge,  threatened  the 
foundations  of  morality  and  the  State.  He  looked 


upon  philosophical  reflection  as  the  most  timely 


and  practical  of  tasks,  for  if  skepticism  was  to  be 
the  last  word  of  the  age,  there  would  be  little  hope  of  escaping 
the  nihilistic  conclusions  of  the  fashionable  views  of  life.  He 
saw  clearly  that  the  prevailing  ethical  and  political  fallacies 
sprang  from  a  total  misconception  of  the  meaning  of  truth,  and 
that  the  problem  of  knowledge  was  the  key  to  the  entire  situa- 
tion. It  was  in  this  conviction,  and  with  an  optimistic  faith  in. 
the  power  of  human  reason  to  meet  the  practical  difficulties 
of  his  times,  that  he  entered  upon  his  mission.  The  aim  which 
he  set  himself  was  not  to  construct  a  system  of  philosophy,  but 
to  arouse  in  men  the  love  of  truth  and  virtue,  to  help  them 
to  think  right  in  order  that  they  might  live  right.  His  purpose 
was  practical  rather  than  speculative;  he  was  interested  in  the 
correct  method  of  acquiring  knowledge  more  than  in  a  theory 
of  such  a  method,  or  methodology.  He  did  not  offer  a  theory 


52  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

at  all,  but  practised  a  method,  lived  it,  and,  by  his  example, 
taught  others  to  follow  it. 

In  order  to  reach  the  truth,  so  his  thought  ran,  we  must 
not  trust  every  chance  opinion  that  enters  our  heads.  Confused, 
vague,  and  empty  thoughts  fill  our  minds;  we  have  a  lot  of 
undigested  opinions  which  we  have  never  examined,  a  lot  of 
prejudices  which  we  have  accepted  on  faith,  and  of  which  we 
do  not  understand  the  meaning;  we  make  a  lot  of  arbitrary 
assertions  for  which  we  have  no  warrant.  In  fact,  we  have 
no  knowledge  at  all,  no  convictions;  we  have  built  our  intel- 
lectual house  on  sand;  the  whole  edifice  will  tumble  to  pieces 
upon  the  slightest  attack.  It  is  our  business  to  clear  up  our 
ideas,  to  understand  the  real  meaning  of  terms,  to  define  cor- 
rectly the  notions  we  employ,  to  know  exactly  what  we  are 
talking  about.  Then,  too,  we  should  have  reasons  for  our  views ; 
prove  our  assertions, — think,  not  guess, — put  our  theories  to  the 
test,  verify  them  by  the  facts,  and  modify  and  correct  them 
in  accordance  with  the  facts. 

The  Sophists  say  there  is  no  truth,  we  cannot  know;  men 
differ,  opinion  is  set  against  opinion,  and  one  is  as  good  as 
another.  This,  says  Socrates,  is  a  mistake.  There  is  diversity 
of  thought,  true ;  but  it  is  our  duty  to  discover  whether,  in  the 
clash  of  opinions,  there  may  not  be  agreement,  some  common 
ground  on  which  all  can  stand,  some  principle  to  which  all 
can  subscribe.  To  evolve  such  universal  judgments  was  the 
purpose  of  the  Socratic  method,  which  our  philosopher  employed 
in  his  discussions,  and  which  is  an  ingenious  form  of  cross- 
examination.  He  pretended  not  to  know  any  more  about  the 
subject  under  discussion  than  the  other  participants;  indeed, 
he  often  acted  as  though  he  knew  less  (the  Socratic  irony )./ 
Yet  they  soon  felt  that  he  was  master  of  the  situation,  that 
he  was  making  them  contradict  themselves,  and  all  the  while 
deftly  guiding  their  thought  into  his  own  channels.  "  You  are 
accustomed  to  ask  most  of  your  questions  when  you  know  very 
well  how  they  stand,"  so  one  of  his  listeners  complained.  Be- 
fore one's  very  eyes,  the  confused  and  erroneous  notions  of  the 
disputants  shape  themselves  into  form,  growing  clear  and  dis- 
tinct, and  finally  stand  out  like  beautiful  statues.  Socrates  had 
not  learned  the  art  of  sculpture  for  nothing. 


SOCRATES  53 

In  discussing  a  subject,  Socrates  generally  sets  out  from 
the  popular  and  hastily  formed  opinions  of  his  company.  These 
he  tests  by  means  of  illustrations  taken  from  every- 
day life,  showing,  wherever  possible  and  necessary, 
that  they  are  not  well-founded,  and  that  they  are 
in  need  of  modification  and  correction.  He  helps  those  taking 
part  in  the  dialogue  to  form  the  correct  opinion,  by  suggesting 
instances  of  all  kinds,  and  does  not  rest  content  until  the  truth 
has  developed  step  by  step.  A  well-known  example  will  make 
this  clear.  By  skilful  questioning  Socrates  gets  a  young  man 
named  Euthydemus  to  confess  his  ambition  to  become  a  great 
politician  and  statesman.  Socrates  suggests  to  him  that,  in  that 
case,  he  must,  naturally,  hope  to  be  a  just  man  himself.  The 
young  man  thinks  he  is  that  already.  "We  go  on  with  the  story 
as  it  is  told  by  Xenophon. 

"  But,  says  Socrates,  there  must  be  certain  acts  which  are  the 
proper  products  of  justice,  as  of  other  functions  or  skills.  No 
doubt.  Then  of  course  you  can  tell  us  what  those  acts  and  products 
are?  Of  course  I  can,  and  the  products  of  injustice  as  well.  Very 
good;  then  suppose  we  write  down  in  two  opposite  columns  what 
acts  are  products  of  justice  and  what  of  injustice.  I  agree,  says 
Euthydemus.  Well  now,  what  of  falsehood?  In  which  column  shall 
we  put  it?  Why,  of  course  in  the  unjust  column.  And  cheating? 
In  the  same  column.  And  stealing?  In  it  too.  And  enslaving?  Yes. 
Not  one  of  these  can  go  to  the  just  column?  Why,  that  would  be  an 
unheard-of  thing.  Well  but,  says  Socrates,  suppose  a  general  has 
to  deal  with  some  enemy  of  his  country  that  has  done  it  great  wrong; 
if  he  conquer  and  enslave  this  enemy,  is  that  wrong?  Certainly  not. 
If  he  carries  off  the  enemy's  goods  or  cheats  him  in  his  strategy,  what 
about  these  acts?  Oh,  of  course  they  are  quite  right.  But  I  thought 
you  were  talking  about  deceiving  or  ill-treating  friends.  Then  in 
some  cases  we  shall  have  to  put  these  very  same  acts  in  both  columns? 
I  suppose  so. 

Well,  now,  suppose  we  confine  ourselves  to  friends.  Imagine  a  gen- 
eral with  an  army  under  him  discouraged  and  disorganized.  Suppose 
he  tells  them  that  reserves  are  coming  up,  and  by  cheating  them  into 
this  belief,  he  saves  them  from  their  discouragement,  and  enables  them 
to  win  a  victory.  What  about  this  cheating  of  one's  friends?  Why, 
I  suppose  we  shall  have  to  put  this  too  on  the  just  side.  Or  suppose 
a  lad  needs  medicine,  but  refuses  to  take  it,  and  his  father  cheats  him 
into  the  belief  that  it  is  something  nice,  and  getting  him  to  take  it, 
saves  his  life;  what  about  that  cheat?  That  will  have  to  go  to  the 
just  side  too.  Or  suppose  you  find  a  friend  in  desperate  frenzy,  and 
steal  his  sword  from  him  for  fear  he  should  kill  himself;  what  do  you 


54  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

say  to  that  theft?  That  will  have  to  go  there  too.  But  I  thought 
you  said  there  must  be  no  cheating  of  friends?  Well,  I  must  take  it 
all  back,  if  you  please.  Very  good.  But  now  there  is  another  point 
I  should  like  to  ask  you.  Whether  do  you  think  the  man  more  unjust 
who  is  a  voluntary  violator  of  justice,  or  he  who  is  an  involuntary 
violator  of  it?  Upon  my  word,  Socrates,  I  no  longer  have  any  con- 
fidence in  my  answers.  For  the  whole  thing  has  turned  out  to  be 
exactly  the  contrary  of  what  I  previously  imagined."  * 

In  this  way,  by  a  process  of  induction,  Socrates  evolves  defi- 
nitions. With  the  help  of  examples,  a  provisional  definition  is 
formed;  this  is  tested  by  other  examples,  and  broadened  or 
narrowed  to  meet  the  requirements  until  a  satisfactory  result 
has  been  reached.  What  Bacon  would  call  negative  instances 
play  an  important  role  in  the  process,  that  is,  cases  which  con- 
tradict the  provisional  definition  offered.  The  aim  is  always  to 
discover  the  essential  characteristics  of  the  subject  to  be  defined, 
to  reach  clear  and  distinct  notions,  or  concepts.  At  other  times, 
Socrates  tests  the  statements  made,  by  going  back  at  once  to  first 
principles,  by  criticising  them  in  the  light  of  correct  definitions. 
Here  the  method  is  deductive.  You  say,  for  example,  that  this 
man  is  a  better  citizen  than  that  one.  Your  assertion,  however, 
is  a  mere  subjective  opinion,  having  no  value  whatever  unless 
you  can  give  reasons  for  it.  You  should  know  what  a  good 
citizen  ;,s,  you  should  define  your  terms. 

"  Whenever  any  person  contradicted  him  on  any  point  who  had 
nothing  definite  to  say,  and  who  perhaps  asserted,  without  proof,  that 
some  person  whom  he  mentioned,  was  wiser  or  better  skilled  in  political 
affairs,  or  possessed  of  greater  courage,  or  worthier  in  some  such  respect 
(than  some  other  whom  Socrates  had  mentioned),  he  would  recall  the 
whole  argument,  in  some  such  way  as  the  following,  to  the  primary 
proposition :  Do  you  say  that  he  whom  you  commend,  is  a  better  citizen 
than  he  whom  I  commend?  I  do  say  so.  Why  should  we  not  then 
consider,  in  the  first  place,  what  is  the  duty  of  a  good  citizen?  Let  us 
do  so.  Would  not  he  then  be  superior  in  the  management  of  the  public 
money  who  should  make  the  State  richer?  Undoubtedly.  And  he  in 
war  who  should  make  it  victorious  over  its  enemies?  Assuredly.  And 
in  an  embassy  he  who  should  make  friends  of  foes?  Doubtless.  And 
he  in  addressing  the  people  who  should  check  dissension  and  inspire 
them  with  unanimity?  I  think  so.  When  the  discussion  was  thus 
brought  back  to  fundamental  principles,  the  truth  was  made  evident 
to  those  who  had  opposed  him." 

•Xenophon,  Memorabilia,  Book  IV,  ch.  2  (transl.  by  .Marshall,  Greek 
Philosophy). 


SOCRATES  55 

"  When  he  himself  went  through  any  subject  in  argument,  he  pro- 
ceeded upon  propositions  of  which  the  truth  was  generally  acknowl- 
edged, thinking  that  a  sure  foundation  was  thus  formed  for  his  reason- 
ing. Accordingly,  whenever  he  spoke,  he,  of  all  men  that  I  have 
known,  most  readily  prevailed  on  his  hearers  to  assent  to  his  arguments ; 
and  he  used  to  say  that  Homer  had  attributed  to  Ulysses  the  character 
of  a  sure  orator,  as  being  able  to  form  his  reasoning  on  points  acknowl- 
edged by  all  mankind."  * 

Knowledge,  then,  is  possible,  after  all.  We  can  attain  truth 
if  we  pursue  the  proper  method,  if  we  define  our  terms  cor- 
rectly, if  we  go  back  to  first  principles.  Knowledge  is  con- 
cerned with  the  general  and  typical,  not  with  the  particular  and 
accidental.  This  the  Sophists  failed  to  understand,  and  Socrates 
sets  them  right.  He  shared  with  them,  however,  the  belief  in 
the  futility  of  physical  and  metaphysical  speculations.  "  In- 
deed, in  contrast  to  others,  he  set  his  face  against  all  discussions 
of  such  high  matters  as  the  nature  of  the  universe;  how  the 
'  cosmos, '  as  the  savants  phrase  it,  came  into  being ;  or  by  what 
forces  the  celestial  phenomena  arise.  To  trouble  one's  brain 
about  such  matters  was,  he  argued,  to  play  the  fool. ' '  His  inter- 
ests were  practical,  and  he  did  not  see  what  was  to  come  of  such 
speculations.  "  The  student  of  human  learning,"  he  said,  "  ex- 
pects to  make  something  of  his  studies  for  the  benefit  of  himself 
or  others,  as  he  likes.  Do  these  explorers  into  the  divine  opera- 
tions hope  that  when  they  have  discovered  by  what  forces  the 
various  phenomena  occur,  they  will  create  winds  and  waters  at 
will  and  fruitful  seasons?  Will  they  manipulate  these  and  the 
like  to  suit  their  needs?  "  "  He  himself  never  wearied  of  dis- 
cussing human  topics.  What  is  piety?  what  is  impiety?  What 
is  the  beautiful?  what  the  ugly?  What  the  noble?  what  the 
base?  What  is  meant  by  just  and  unjust?  What  by  sobriety 
and  madness,  what  by  courage  and  cowardice?  What  is  a 
State?  What  is  a  statesman?  What  is  a  ruler  over  men? 
What  is  a  ruling  character?  and  other  like  problems,  the  knowl- 
edge of  which,  as  he  put  it,  conferred  a  patent  of  nobility  on 
the  possessor,  whereas  those  who  lacked  the  knowledge  might 
deservedly  be  stigmatized  as  slaves. ' '  f 

•Xenophon,  op.  cit.,  IV,  ch.  6,  12,  ff.;  transl.  by  J.  S.  Watson,  Bohn 
Library. 

t  Xenophon,  op.  cit.,  I,  ch.  1,  11,  ff.  (transl.  by  Dakyns)  ;  see  also 
IV,  ch.  7. 


56  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Socrates 's  faith  in  knowledge,  in  clear  and  reasoned  think- 
ing, is  strong, — so  strong  that  he  sees  in  it  the  cure  of  all  our 
ills.  He  applies  his  method  to  all  human  prob- 
lems, particularly  to  the  field  of  morality,  and 
seeks  to  find  a  rational  basis  for  conduct.  The  radical  thinkers, 
as  we  saw,  looked  upon  the  ethical  ideas  and  practices  of  their 
times  as  mere  conventions;  after  all,  might  makes  right.  The 
conservatives  regarded  them  as  self-evident :  rules  of  conduct  are 
not  things  about  which  one  can  reason;  they  have  to  be  obeyed. 
Socrates  endeavors  to  understand  the  meaning  of  morality,  to 
discover  a  rational  principle  of  right  and  wrong,  a  criterion 
by  which  to  measure  it.  The  question  uppermost  in  his  mind 
is:  How  shall  I  order  my  life?  What  is  the  rational  way  of 
living?  How  ought  a  reasoning  being,  a  human  being,  to  act? 
The  Sophists  cannot  be  right  in  saying  that  man  is  the  meas- 
ure of  all  things  in  the  sense  that  whatever  pleases  me,  the  par- 
ticular me,  is  right  for  me ;  that  there  is  no  universal  good. 
There  must  be  more  to  the  matter  than  that;  there  must  be 
some  principle,  or  standard,  or  good,  which  all  rational  creatures 
recognize  and  accept  when  they  come  to  think  the  problem  out. 
What  is  the  good,  what  is  the  good  for  the  sake  of  which  all 
else  is  good,  the  highest  good? 

Knowledge  is  the  highest  good,  so  Socrates  answers.  Right 
thinking  is  essential  to  right  action.  In  order  to  steer  a  ship 
or  rule  a  State,  a  man  must  have  knowledge  of  the  construction 
and  function  of  the  ship,  or  of  the  nature  and  purpose  of  the 
State.  Similarly,  unless  a  man  knows  what  virtue  is,  unless  he 
knows  the  meaning  of  self-control  and  courage  and  justice  and 
piety  and  their  opposites,  he  cannot  be  virtuous;  but,  knowing 
what  virtue  is,  he  will  be  virtuous.  "  No  man  is  voluntarily 
bad  or  involuntarily  good."  "  No  man  voluntarily  pursues 
evil  or  that  which  he  thinks  to  be  evil.  To  prefer  evil  to  good 
is  not  in  human  nature ;  and  when  a  man  is  compelled  to  choose 
between  two  evils,  no  one  will  choose  the  greater  when  he  may 
have  the  less."  The  objection  is  raised  that  "  we  see  the  bet- 
ter and  approve  of  it  and  pursue  the  evil. ' '  Socrates  would  have 
denied  that  we  can  truly  know  the  good  and  not  choose  it.  With 
him  knowledge  of  right  and  wrong  was  not  a  mere  theoretical 
opinion,  but  a  firm  practical  conviction,  a  matter  not  only  of 


SOCRATES  57 

the  intellect,  but  of  the  will.  Besides,  virtue  is  to  a  man's 
interest.  The  tendency  of  all  honorable  and  useful  actions  is 
to  make  life  painless  and  pleasant,  hence  the  honorable  work 
is  the  useful  and  good.  Virtue  and  true  happiness  are  identical  ; 
no  one  can  be  happy  who  is  not  temperate  and  brave  and  wise 
and  just.  *  '  I  do  nothing,  "  says  Socrates  in  the  Apology,  '  (  but 
go  about  persuading  you  all,  old  and  young  alike,  not  to  take 
thought  for  your  persons  or  properties,  but  first  and  chiefly  to 
care  about  the  greatest  improvement  of  the  soul.  I  tell  you  that 
virtue  is  not  given  by  money,  but  that  from  virtue  comes  money 
and  every  other  good  of  man,  public  as  well  as  private."  And 
the  last  words  which  he  speaks  at  his  trial  are  these:  "  Still  I 
have  a  favor  to  ask  of  them  [my  condemners  and  accusers]. 
When  my  sons  are  grown  up,  I  would  ask  you,  oh  my  friends, 
to  punish  them;  and  I  would  have  you  trouble  them  as  I  have 
troubled  you  if  they  seem  to  care  about  riches  or  about 
anything,  more  than  about  virtue;  or  if  they  pretend  to 
be  something  when  they  are  really  nothing,  —  then  reprove 
them,  as  I  have  reproved  you,  for  not  caring  about  that 
for  which  they  ought  to  care,  and  thinking  that  they  are 
something  when  they  are  really  nothing.  And  if  you  do 
this,  both  I  and  my  sons  will  have  received  justice  at  your 
hands." 

Socrates,  as  we  have  already  pointed  out,  did  not  construct 
a  system  of  metaphysics  nor  did  he  offer  a  theory  of  knowledge 
or  of  conduct.  It  remained  for  his  pupils  to  build 


upon  the  foundations  laid  by  the  master.     Some 


made  the  logical  problems  suggested  by  his  method 
the  subject  of  their  study,  others  turned  their  attention  to 
ethical  questions  and  attempted  to  work  out  theories  of  ethics. 
The  Megarian  school,  founded  by  Euclides  (450-374  B.C.),  com- 
bined the  Socratic  teaching  that  virtue  is  knowledge  with  the 
Eleatic  doctrine  of  the  unity  of  being:  the  notion  of  the  good 
constitutes  the  eternal  essence  of  things;  nothing  else,  —  neither 
matter,  motion,  nor  the  changing  world  of  sense,  —  has  real  be- 
ing. Hence,  there  can  be  but  one  virtue,  and  hence,  also, 
external  goods  can  have  no  value.  The  successors  of  Euclides 
exaggerated  the  dialectical  phase  of  his  teaching,  after  the  man- 


58  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

ner  of  Zeno,  the  Eleatic,  and  the  Sophists,  and  delighted  in  all 
kinds  of  subtleties  and  hair-splitting  (eristic). 

Among  the  members  of  this  school  are  Eubulides,  Alexinus,  Diodorus, 
and  Stilpo.  Phaedo,  of  Elis,  established  the  Elean  (later  Eretrian) 
school,  which  agreed  with  the  Megarians. 

Two  ethical  schools  arose,  each  basing  itself  on  certain  phases 
of  Socrates 's  teachings,  the  Cyrenaic,  founded  by  Aristippus 
(born  about  435)  at  Gyrene,  and  the  Cynic,  established  by  An- 
tisthenes  (-{-366)  at  the  gymnasium  of  Cynosarges  in  Athens. 
The  Cyrenaic  doctrine,  that  pleasure  is  the  highest  good,  was 
continued  and  completed  by  the  Epicureans,  while  the  Cynic 
teaching,  which  rejected  the  pleasure-theory  and  made  virtue 
for  virtue's  sake  its  motto,  was  developed  by  the  Stoics. 


AGE  OF  RECONSTRUCTION 

9.   PLATO 

None  of  these  schools,  however,  succeeded  in  constructing  com- 
prehensive and  thoroughgoing  systems  of  thought;  and  yet, 
such  an  undertaking  seemed  necessary  to  complete 
^e  work  begun  by  the  great  master.  The  problems 
suggested  by  him  had  to  be  thought  out  to  the  end ; 
they  were  intimately  connected  with  one  another  and  with  the 
problem  of  the  ultimate  nature  of  being,  and  they  could  not 
receive  an  adequate  answer  unless  studied  in  their  interrelations 
and  as  parts  of  a  larger  question.  The  problem  of  the  meaning 
of  human  life,  human  knowledge,  human  conduct,  and  human 
institutions  depended,  for  its  complete  answer,  on  the  answer 
to  the  problem  of  the  meaning  of  reality  at  large.  It  was  the 
greatest  pupil  of  Socrates,  Plato,  who  undertook  the  task  at 
hand;  he  offered  not  only  a  theory  of  knowledge,  a  theory  of 
conduct,  and  a  theory  of  the  State,  buL  crowned  his  work  with 
a  theory  of  the  universe. 

Plato  was  born  427  B.C.,  the  son  of  noble  parents.  According  to 
report,  he  first  studied  music,  poetry,  painting,  and  philosophy  with 
other  masters  and  became  a  pupil  of  Socrates  in  407,  remaining  with 
him  until  the  latter's  death  (399)3  when  he  accompanied  the  sorrowing 


PLATO  59 

Socratics  to  Megara.  He  is  said  to  have  traveled  in  Egypt  and  Asia 
Minor,  to  have  visited  Italy  and  the  Pythagoreans  (388),  and  to  have 
lived  for  a  time  at  the  court  of  Dionysius  I,  the  tyrant  of  Syracuse,  who 
became  his  enemy  and  sold  him  into  slavery  as  a  prisoner  of  war;  but 
all  of  these  stories  have  been  denied.  He  founded  a  school  in  the 
groves  of  Academus,  the  Academy,  where  he  taught  mathematics  and 
the  different  branches  of  philosophy,  by  means  of  connected  lectures 
and  the  dialogue,  a  method  that  has  been  compared  to  our  modern 
seminars.  The  story  goes  that  he  interrupted  his  work,  on  two  occasions 
(367  and  361),  by  further  visits  to  Syracuse,  presumably  in  the  hope 
of  assisting  in  the  realization  of  his  ideal  State,  and  that  he  was 
disappointed  in  this  hope.  His  death  occurred  in  347  B.C.  Plato  was 
a  poet  and  mystic,  as  well  as  a  philosopher  and  dialectician  j  combining, 
in  a  rare  degree,  great  powers  of  logical  analysis  and  abstract  thought 
with  wonderful  poetic  imagination  and  deep  mystical  feeling.  His 
character  was  noble ;  he  was  an  aristocrat  by  birth  and  by  temperament, 
an  uncompromising  idealist,  hostile  to  everything  base  and  vulgar. 

It  seems  that  all  the  works  of  Plato  have  come  down  to  us.  Of  the 
writings,  however,  transmitted  under  his  name  (35  Dialogues,  13  Letters, 
and  a  collection  of  Definitions],  the  Letters  (nearly  all,  at  least)  and 
Definitions  are  spurious.  Of  the  dialogues,  28  are  considered  authentic 
by  Hermann,  23  by  Schleiermacher,  24  by  Zeller  and  Heinze,  and 
22  by  Lutoslawski.  The  testimony  of  Plato's  pupil  Aristotle  as  to 
the  authenticity  of  a  Platonic  dialogue  is  unquestioned  here,  but  un- 
fortunately Aristotle  does  not  mention  all  the  works. 

Attempts  have  been  made  by  many  scholars  to  arrange  the  dialogues 
in  chronological  order,*  but  it  is  not  yet  possible  to  state  with  certainty 
the  exact  time  and  order  of  their  composition.  A  complete  history 
of  the  development  of  Plato's  doctrine  is,  therefore,  still  out  of  the 
question.  We  may,  however,  distinguish  an  earlier,  Socratic,  group, 
embracing  the  ethical  dialogues,  in  which  Plato  does  not  advance  materi- 
ally beyond  the  standpoint  of  his  teacher.  To  this  belong:  Apology, 
Hippias  Minor,  Charmides,  Laches,  Lysis,  Euthyphro,  Crito,  and  Pro- 
tagoras. In  a  second  group  of  writings,  which  is  not  so  easy  to  specify 
as  the  first,  he  begins  to  develop  his  own  view  and  to  work  out 
his  methodology.  To  this  group  Zeller  refers :  Phcedrus  (which  contains 
the  summary  of  the  teachings  of  this  period),  Gorgias,  Meno,  Euthyde- 
mus,  Thecetetus,  Sophist,  Politicus,  Parmenides,  and  Cratylus.  The 
completion  of  the  system  is  reached  in  the  last  period,  to  which  Zeller 
assigns :  Symposium,  Phcedo,  Philebus,  Republic,  Timceus,  Critias,  Laws. 
Zeller  rejects,  as  not  genuine,  Epinomis,  Alcibiades  I  and  II,  Anteras, 
Hipparchus,  Theages,  Minos,  Cleitophro,  Hippias  I,  lo,  Menexenus. 

Editions  of  works  by  Schanz,  1875,  ff .,  and  Burnet,  1902 ;  translations 
by  Jowett,  5  vols. ;  for  ottyer  editions  and  translations  see  article  by 
Campbell  on  Plato  in  Britannica.  Ritchie,  Plato,  A.  E.  Taylor,  Plato; 
Pater,  Plato  and  Platonism;  Adam,  Vitality  of  Platonism;  J.  A. 
Stewart,  Plato's  Doctrine  of  Ideas,  and  Myths  of  Plato;  Nettleship, 
Lectures  on  the  Republic,  and  Plato's  Theory  of  Education;  Grote, 

•  Cf.  Ueberweg-Heinze,  §  40;  "  Plato  "  in  Britannica;  Lutoslawski,  Origin 
and  Growth  of  Plato's  Logic;  K.  Joel,  op.  cit. 


60  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Plato,  etc.,  and  History,  vol.  VII;  Windelband,  Plato;  Riehl,  Plato; 
Ritter,  Plato,  and  Neuere  Untersuchungen;  Natorp,  Plato's  Ideenlehre, 
and  Plato's  Staat;  Fouillee,  La  philosophic  de  Platon;  Benard,  Platon; 
Huit,  Platon,  2  vols. ;  Indexes  to  Plato's  works  by  Mitchell  and  Abbott. 

Socrates  had  pointed  out  that  in  order  to  live  a  rational  and 
good  life  we  needs  must  have  knowledge  of  the  good,  and  that 
it  is  possible  to  attain  such  knowledge.  He  did  not  present  a 
theory  of  the  method  of  reaching  it,  but  he  practised  the  art 
of  evolving  truth  in  the  form  of  the  dialogue.  This  method  Plato 
employs  witl^l /wonderful  artistic  effect  in  his  writings.  But  he 
also  speculates  on  the  method  and  meaning  of  truth,  and  out- 
lines a  theory  of  method,  or  dialectics,  or  logic,  in  which  he 
discusses  the  art  of  forming  and  combining  concepts,  or  the 
logical  operations  by  means  of  which  truth  is  reached.  We 
have  here  the  beginnings  of  a  theory  of  knowledge  and  formal 
logic.  Plato  is  not  content,  however,  with  telling  how  true 
concepts  and  judgments  may  be  obtained ;  his  chief  object  is 
to  obtain  them,  to  know  reality  in  all  its  phases, — physical,  men- 
tal, and  moral, — to  comprehend  it  in  its  unity  and  complete- 
ness. Indeed,  it  is  plain  to  him  that  the  knowledge-problem 
itself  cannot  be  solved  without  an  understanding  of  the  nature 
of  the  world.  To  this  end  he  develops  a  universal  system,  in 
the  spirit  of  the  teachings  of  the  great  thinker  who  became  his 
ideal.  Although  Plato  did  not  explicitly  divide  philosophy  into 
logic,  metaphysics  (physics),  and  ethics  (practical  philosophy, 
including  politics),  he  makes  use  of  such  a  division  in  his  works. 
We  shall,  therefore,  follow  this  order,  in  a  general  way,  in  our 
exposition  of  his  thought,  and  begin  with  logic,  or  dialectics. 

Plato  clearly  understood  the  great  importance  of  the  problem 
of  knowledge  in  the  philosophy  of  his  day.    A  thinker's  concep- 
tion of  the  nature  and  origin  of  knowledge  largely 
Dialectics  .      _    ,  .        ....    ,  . 

determined    his    attitude    toward    the    engrossing 

questions  of  the  age.  If  our  propositions  are  derived  from 
sense-perception  and  opinion,  Plato  argued,  then  the  Sophists 
are  quite  right  in  their  contention  that  there  can  be  no  genuine 
knowledge.  Sense-perception  (ai'ffSrfffiS)  does  not  reveal  the 
true  reality  of  things,  but  gives  us  mere  appearance.  Opinion 
(6 oB, a]  may  be  true  or  false;  as  mere  opinion  it  has  no  value 
whatever ;  it  is  not  knowledge,  but  rests  on  persuasion  or  feeling ; 


PLATO  ^S^_  61 

it  does  not  know  whether  it  is  true  or  false,  it  cannot  justify 
itself.  Genuine  knowledge  (emarrf^irj)  is  knowledge  based  on 
reasons,  knowledge  that  knows  itself  as  knowledge,  knowledge 
that  can  authenticate  itself.  The  great  majority  of  men  think 
without  knowing  why  they  think  as  they  do,  without  having 
any  grounds  for  their  views.  Ordinary  virtue  is  no  better 
off:  it,  too,  rests  on  sense-perception  and  opinion;  it  is  not  con- 
scious of  its  principles.  Men  do  not  know  why  they  act  as 
they  do;  they  act  instinctively,  according  to  custom  or  habit, 
like  ants,  bees,  and  wasps;  they  act  selfishly,  for  pleasure  and 
profit,  hence  the  masses  are  a  great  unconscious  Sophist.  The 
Sophist  is  wrong  because  he  confuses  appearance  and  reality, 
the  pleasant  and  the  good.  ^*m  \  " "" 

We  must  advance  from  sense-perception  and  opinion  to  genu- 
ine knowledge.  This  we  cannot  do  unless  we  have  a  desire,  or 
love  of  truth,  the  Eros,  which  is  aroused  by  the  contemplation 
of  beautiful  ideas:  we  pass  from  the  contemplation  of  beauty 
to  the  contemplation  of  truth.  The  love  of  truth  impels  us  to 
dialectics;  it  impels  us  to  rise  beyond  sense-perception  to  the 
idea,  to  conceptual  knowledge,  from  the  particular  to  the  uni- 
versal. The  dialectical  method  consists,  first,  in  the  compre- 
hension of  scattered  particulars  in  one  idea  ( ffvvaycoyrf) ,  and 
second,  in  the  division  (Siai'peeiS)  of  the  idea  into  species,  that 
is,  in  the  processes  of  generalization  and  classification.  In  this 
way  alone  can  there  be  clear  and  consistent  thinking;  we  pass 
from  concept  to  concept,  upward  and  downward,  generalizing 
and  particularizing,  combining  and  dividing,  synthetizing  and 
analyzing,  carving  out  concepts  as  a  sculptor  carves  a  beauti- 
ful figure  out  of  a  block  of  marble.  Judgment  expresses  the 
relation  of  concepts  to  one  another,  articulates  concept  with  con^ 
cept,  while  the  syllogism  links  judgment  with  judgment,  in  the 
process  of  reasoning.  Dialectics  is  this  art  of  thinking  in  con- 
cepts; concepts,  and  not  sensations  or  images,  constitute  the 
essential  object  of  thought.  We  cannot,  for  example,  call  a  man 
just  or  unjust  unless  we  have  a  notion,  or  concept,  of  justice, 
unless  we  know  what  justice  is;  when  we  know  that,  we  can 
judge  why  a  man  is  just  or  unjust. 

But,  Plato  warns  us,  the  notion  or  idea  (of  justice,  for  ex- 
ample) does  not  have  its  origin  in  experience;  we  do  not  derive 


_  .  ' 

62  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

it  from  particular  cases  (of  justice),  by  induction.  These  are 
merely  the  means  of  clearing  up,  or  bringing  to  consciousness, 
or  making  explicit,  the  notion  (of  justice)  which  already  exists 
obscurely,  or  implicitly,  in  the  soul.  When  the  notion  has  been 
evolved,  other  notions  may  be  deduced  from  it;  we  develop  its 
implications  or  meanings,  and  so  reach  new  and  absolutely  cer- 
tain knowledge.  Man  is,  therefore,  indeed,  the  measure  of  all 
things,  of  all  truth,  because  there  lie  imbedded  in  his  soul 
certain  universal  principles,  notions,  concepts,  or  ideas,  which 
form  the  starting-point  of  all  his  knowledge. 

Experience,  then,  is  not  the  source  of  our  notions;  there  is 
nothing  in  experience,  in  the  world  of  sense,  exactly  corre- 
sponding to  them, — to  the  notions  of  truth,  beauty,  goodness, 
for  example; — no  particular  object  is  absolutely  beautiful  or 
good.  We  approach  the  sense-world  with  ideals  or  standards  of 
the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the  good.  In  addition  to  these  no- 
tions, Plato  came  to  regard  mathematical  concepts  and  certain 
logical  notions,  or  categories,  such  as  being  and  non-being, 
identity  and  difference,  unity  and  plurality,  as  inborn,  or 
a  priori. 

Conceptual  knowledge,  then,  is  the  only  genuine  knowledge: 
that  was  the  teaching  of  Socrates.  The  question,  however,  arises : 
What  guarantee  have  we  of  its  truth?  Plato  bases  his  answer 
on  the  metaphysical  teachings  of  several  of  his  predecessors. 
Knowledge  is  the  correspondence  of  thought  and  reality,  or 
being:  it  must  have  an  object.  Hence,  if  the  idea  or  notion 
is  to  have  any  value  as  knowledge,  something  real  must  corre- 
spond to  it, — there  must,  for  instance,  be  pure,  absolute  beauty 
as  such, — realities  must  exist  corresponding  to  our  universal 
ideas.  In  other  words,  such  ideasj^  cannot  be  mere  passing 
thoughts  in  men's  heads;  the  truths  of  mathematics,  the  ideals 
of  beauty,  truth,  and  goodness,  must  be  real,  must  have  inde- 
pendent existence.  If  the  objects  of  our  ideas  were  not  real, 
our  knowledge  would  not  be  knowledge;  hence  they  must  be 
real. 

The  same  result  is  reached  in  another  way.  Truth  is  the 
knowledge  of  reality,  of  being  as  such,  of  that  which  is.  The 
world  perceived  by  our  senses  is  not  the  true  world;  it  is  a 
changing,  fleeting  world,  one  thing  to-day,  something  else  to- 


TO  -  63 

morrow  (Heraclitus) ;  it  is  mere  appearance,  illusion.  True 
being  is  something  permanent,  unchangeable,  eternal  (Par- 
menides).  Hence,  in  order  to  have  genuine  knowledge,  we  must 
know  the  permanent  and  unchangeable  essence  of  things. 
Thought  alone,  conceptual  thought,  can  grasp  eternal  and 
changeless  being ;  it  knows  that  which  is,  that  which  persists,  that 
which  remains  one  and  the  same  in  all  change  and  diversity,  the 
essential  forms  of  things. 

Plato  found  it  necessary,  in  short,  to  appeal  to  metaphysics, 
to  his  world-view,  for  the  proof  of  the  validity  of  knowledge. 
Sense-knowledge, — the  kind  the  Sophist  believed  in, — presents 
to  us  the  passing,  changing,  particular,  and  accidental;  hence 
it  cannot  be  genuine  knowledge:  it  does  not  tell  the  truth  or 
get  at  the  heart  of  reality.  Conceptual  knowledge  reveals  the 
universal,  changeless,  and  essential  element  in  things  and  is, 
therefore,  true  knowledge.  Philosophy  has  for  its  aim  knowledge 
of  the  universal,  unchangeable,  and  eternal. 

The  idea,  or  notion,  or  concept,  as  we  have  seen,  compre- 
hends or  holds  together  the  essential  qualities  common  to  many 
particulars:  the  essence  of  things  consists  in  their 
necessary  form.  We  are  apt  to  consider  such  ideas  P,oc* 
as  mental  processes  only:  particulars  alone  exist, 
there  is  nothing  corresponding  to  the  idea  or  type  outside  of 
the  mind;  "  I  see  a  horse,  but  '  horseness  '  I  do  not  see/'  as 
Antisthenes  is  reported  to  have  said.  Plato  did  not  share  this 
view;  according  to  him,  the  ideas  or  forms  (idiai^i'drj^opcpai) 
are  not  mere  thoughts  in  the  minds  of  men  or  even  in  the  mind 
of  God  (indeed,  the  divine  thought  is  dependent  on  them)  ;  he 
conceives  them  as  existing  in  and  for  themselves,  they  have  the 
character  of  substantiality,  they  are  substances  (ovcriai),  real 
or  substantial  forms:  the  original,  eternal  transcendent  arche- 
types (napadeiy^ara}  of  things,  existing  prior  to  things  and 
apart  from  them  (#<»pz'£),  independent  of  them,  uninfluenced 
by  the  changes  to  which  they  are  subject.  The  particular  ob- 
jects which  we  perceive  are  imperfect  copies  or  reflections  of 
these  eternal  patterns;  particulars  may  come  and  particulars 
may  go,  but  the  idea  or  form  goes  on  forever.  Men  may  come 
and  men  may  go,  but  the  man-type,  the  human  race,  goes  on 
forever.  There  are  many  objects  or  copies,  but  there  is  always 


64  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

only  one  idea  of  a  class//of  things.  There  are  numberless  such 
independent  forms,  or  ideas,  nothing  being  too  lowly  or  insig- 
nificant to  have  its  idea:  ideas  of  things,  relations,  qualities, 
actions ;  ideas  of  tables  and  beds  and  chairs,  of  color  and  tone ; 
of  health,  rest,  and  motion;  of  smallness,  greatness,  likeness; 
of  beauty,  truth,  and  goodness. 

These  ideas  or  archetypes,  though  numberless,  are  not  disor- 
dered, like  chaos;  they  constitute  a  well-ordered  world,  or 
rational  cosmos  (xoffjuo?  vorjroS).  The  ideal  order  forms  an 
interrelated,  connected  organic  unity,  the  ideas  being  arranged 
in  logical  order,  and  subsumed  under  the  highest  idea,  the  idea 
of  the  Good,  which  is  the  source  of  all  the  rest.  This  idea  is 
supreme;  beyond  it  there  is  no  other.  The  truly  real  and  the 
truly  good  are  identical;  the  idea  of  the  Good  is  the  logos,  the 
cosmic  purpose.  Unity,  therefore,  includes  plurality;  in  the 
intelligible  or  ideal  world  there  is  no  unity  without  plurality, 
and  no  plurality  without  unity  (Pannenides).  The  universe 
is  conceived  by  Plato  as  a  logical  system  of  ideas:  it  forms  an 
organic  spiritual  unity,  governed  by  a  universal  purpose,  the 
idea  of  the  Good,  and  is,  therefore,  a  rational  moral  whole.  Its 
meaning  cannot  be  grasped  by  the  senses,  which  perceive  only 
its  imperfect  and  fleeting  reflections  and  never  rise  to  a  vision 
of  the  perfect  and  abiding  whole.  It  is  the  business  of  philosophy 
to  understand  its  inner  order  and  connection,  to  conceive  its 
essence  by  logical  thought. 

We  have,  in  this  framework  of  the  Platonic  system,  a  combina- 
tion and  transformation  of  the  teachings  of  the  leaders  of  Greek 
thought.  With  the  Sophists  Plato  agrees  that  knowledge  (of 
appearances)  is  impossible;  with  Socrates,  that  genuine  knowl- 
edge is  always  of  concepts;  with  Heraclitus,  that  the  world  (of 
appearances)  is  in  constant  change;  with  the  Eleatics,  that  the 
world  (of  ideas)  is  unchangeable;  with  the  Atomists,  that  being 
is  plural  (ideas)  ;  with  the  Eleatics,  that  it  is  one;  with  nearly 
all  the  Greek  thinkers,  that  it  is  at  bottom  rational;  with 
Anaxagoras  that  mind  rules  it  and  that  mind  is  distinct  from 
matter.  His  system  is  the  mature  fruit  of  the  history  of  Greek 
philosophy  down  to  his  time. 

We  turn  now  to  the  relation  of  this  ideal  world  to  the  so-called 
real  world.  As  was  said  before,  the  particular  objects  in  nature 


PLATO  65 

are  copies  of  ideas.  How  is  this  to  be  understood  ?  How  can  the 
pure  and  perfect,  changeless  principle  be  responsible  f«r  the 
incomplete  and  ever-changing  world  of  sense? 
There  is  another  principle,  which  is  everything  that  ™losophy 
idea  is  not,  and  to  which  sensuous  existence  owes 
its  imperfections.  This  principle,  which  Aristotle  calls  the 
Platonic  "  matter,"  forms  the  basis  of  the  phenomenal  world;  as 
such  it  is  the  raw  material  (eH^aysiov)  upon  which  the  forms 
are  somehow  impressed.  It  is  perishable  and  unreal,  imperfect, 
— non-being  (w  ov)  • — whatever  reality,  form,  or  beauty  the 
perceived  world  has,  it  owes  to  ideas.  Some  interpreters  of 
Plato  conceive  this  Platonic  ' '  matter  ' '  as  space ;  others  as  a 
formless,  space-filling  mass.  Plato  needs  something  besides  the 
idea  to  account  for  our  world  of  sense,  or  nature,  which  is  not 
a  mere  illusion  of  the  senses,  but  an  order  of  lower  rank  than  the 
changeless  ideal  realm.  This  substratum,  untouched  by  the  ideal 
principle,  must  be  conceived  as  devoid  of  all  qualities, — form- 
less, ^indefinable,  imperceptible.  Nature  owes  its  existence  to 
the  influence  of  the  ideal  world  on  non-being  or  matter:  as  a 
ray  of  light,  passed  through  a  prism,  is  broken  into  many  rays, 
so  the  idea  is  broken  into  many  objects  by  matter.  The  form- 
less something  is  non-being,  not  in  the  sense  of  being  non-existent, 
but  in  the  sense  of  having  a  lower  order  of  existence:  the  term 
non-being  expresses  a  judgment  of  value.  The  sensible  world 
partakes  of  a  measure  of  reality  or  being,  in  so  far  as  it  takes 
on  form.  Plato  does  not  define  more  precisely  the  nature  of  the 
relation  between  the  two  realms ;  but  it  is  plain  that  the  ideas 
are  somehow  responsible  for  all  the  reality  things  possess:  they 
owe  their  being  to  the  presence  of  ideas,  to  the  participation 
of  the  latter  in  them.  At  the  same  time,  non-being,  the  sub- 
stratum, is  responsible  for  the  diversity  and  imperfection  of  the 
many  different  objects  bearing  the  same  name;  as  Zeller  says, 
it  is  a  second  kind  of  causality,  the  causality  of  a  blind,  irra- 
tional necessity.  There  are,  then,  two  principles ;  we  should  say, 
mind  and  matter,  of  which  mind  is  the  true  reality,  the  thing 
of  most  worth,  that  to  which  everything  owes  its  form  and 
essence,  the  principle  of  law  and  order  in  the  universe;  while 
the  other  element,  matter,  is  secondary,  a  dull,  irrational,  recalci- 
trant force,  the  unwilling  slave  of  mind,  which  somehow,  but 


66  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

imperfectly,  takes  on  the  impress  of  mind.  Form  is  the  active 
cause,  matter  is  the  cooperative  cause.  It  is  both  friend  and  foe, 
an  auxiliary  and  an  obstruction,  the  ground  of  physical  and 
moral  evil,  of  change  and  imperfection.  Since  the  world  of  ideas 
is  identical  with  the  Good,  the  non-ideal  must  be  evil.  If  we 
had  to  label  this  part  of  the  system,  we  should  call  it  dualism. 
It  is  idealistic,  or  spiritualistic,  in  so  far  as  it  makes  mind  the 
paramount  principle  of  things  and  matter  a  secondary  principle. 
In  any  case,  it  is  thoroughly  anti-materialistic  and  anti- 
mechanistic. 

Plato  attempts  to  explain  the  origin  of  nature  in  his  Timaus, 
a  work  that  reminds  one  of  the  early  Pre-Socratic  philosophies. 
He  presents  a  cosmology  which  is  shot  through  with  many 
mythical  elements  and  often  contradicts  his  other  teachings, 
but  he  claims  for  it  nothing  more  than  probability.  Like  a 
human  artist  or  workman,  the  Demiurge  or  Creator  fashions  the 
world  after  the  pattern  of  the  ideal  world;  guided  by  the  idea 
of  the  Good,  he  forms  as  perfect  a  universe  as  it  is  possible  for 
him  to  form,  hampered,  as  he  is,  by  the  principle  of  matter. 
The  Demiurge  is  not  really  a  creator,  but  an  architect ;  the  two 
principles,  mind  and  matter,  are  already  in  existence:  a  being 
is  needed  who  will  bring  them  together.  In  order  to  realize 
his  purpose,  he  endows  the  world,  which  is  composed  of  the 
four  material  elements,  earth,  air,  fire,  water,  with  soul  and 
life.  This  world-soul  he  compounds  of  the  indivisible  and 
divisible,  of  identity  and  change,  of  mind  and  matter  (the  four 
elements),  in  order  that  it  may  know  the  ideal  and  perceive 
the  corporeal.  It  has  its  own  original  motion,  which  is  the 
cause  of  all  motion;  in  moving  itself  it  also  moves  bodies;  it 
is  diffused  throughout  the  world  and  is  the  cause  of  the  beauty, 
order,  and  harmony  in  the  world:  this  is  the  image  of  God, 
a  visible  God.  The  world-soul  is  the  intermediary  between  the 
world  of  ideas  and  the  world  of  phenomena.  It  is  the  cause 
of  all  law,  mathematical  relations,  harmony,  order,  uniformity, 
life,  mind,  and  knowledge:  it  moves  according  to  fixed  laws 
of  its  nature,  causing  the  distribution  of  matter  in  the  heavenly 
spheres,  as  well  as  their  motion.  Besides  the  world-soul,  the 
Creator  created  souls  or  gods  for  the  planets  (which  he  arranged 
according  to  the  Pythagorean  system  of  harmony)  and  rational 


PLATO  67 

human  souls,  leaving  it  to  the  lower  gods  to  create  animals 
and  the  irrational  part  of  the  human  soul.  Everything  has 
been  made  for  man,  plants  to  nourish  him,  and  animal-bodies 
to  serve  as  habitations  for  fallen  souls. 

We  have,  therefore,  in  Plato's  cosmology  many  gods,  to  none 
of  whom  he  definitely  ascribes  personality,  perhaps  because 
he  took  this  for  granted,  conceiving  them  in  analogy  with  the 
human  soul:  the  Idea  of  the  Good,  the  total  world  of  ideas, 
the  Demiurge,  the  world-soul,  the  planetary  souls,  and  the  gods 
of  the  popular  religion. 

This  cosmology  is  a  teleological  world-view  in  mythical  garb, 
an  attempt  to  explain  reality  as  a  purposeful,  well-ordered 
cosmos,  the  work  of  an  intelligence,  guided  by  reason  and  an 
ethical  purpose.  Purposes  or  final  causes  are  the  real  causes 
of  the  world,  the  physical  causes  are  merely  cooperating  causes : 
whatever  is  good  and  rational  and  purposeful  in  the  universe 
is  due  to  reason ;  whatever  is  evil,  irrational,  and  purposeless  is 
due  to  mechanical  causes. 

The  theory  of  knowledge  has  shown  us  that  there  are  three 
kinds  of  knowledge, — sense-perception,  opinion,  and  genuine 
knowledge  or  Science  (Wissenschaft) .  This  divi- 
sion  influences  Plato's  psychology.  In  sensation  sy 
and  opinion  the  soul  is  dependent  on  the  body;  in  so  far  as 
it  beholds  the  pure  world  of  ideas,  it  is  pure  reason.  The 
bodily  part  is,  therefore,  an  impediment  to  knowledge,  from 
which  the  soul  must  free  itself  in  order  to  behold  truth  in  its 
purity.  The  copies  of  the  pure  ideas,  as  they  exist  in  the 
phenomenal  world,  merely  incite  the  rational  soul  to  think; 
sensation  provokes  ideas,  it  does  not  produce  them.  Hence, 
the  soul  must  somehow  possess  ideas  prior  to  its  contact  with 
the  world  of  experience.  Plato  teaches  that  the  soul  has  viewed 
such  ideas  before,  but  has  forgotten  them ;  the  imperfect  copies 
of  ideas  in  the  world  of  sense  bring  back  its  past,  remind  it, 
as  it  were,  of  what  it  has  seen  before:  all  knowledge  is  remi- 
niscence (anamnesis)  and  all  learning  a  reawakening.  (Read 
the  myth  of  the  charioteer  in  the  Phcedrus.)  Hence,  the  soul 
must  have  existed  before  its  union  with  a  body  (pre- 
existence). 

The  human  soul,  then,  is,  in  part,  pure  reason  (rov?),  and 


68  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

this  rational  part  is  its  characteristic  phase.  It  enters  a  body, 
and  there  is  added  to  it  a  mortal  and  irrational  part,  which  fits 
it  for  existence  in  the  sense-world.  This  is  divided  into  the  spir- 
ited part  (St>/to£), — by  which  Plato  means  the  nobler  impulses 
(anger,  ambition,  love  of  power),  situated  in  the  heart, — and 
desire  (  TO  eTtiSv^ir/Tixor), — by  which  he  means  the  lower  appe- 
tites or  passions,  the  part  with  which  the  soul  loves  and  hungers 
and  thirsts,  placed  by  him  in  the  liver.  The  union  with  the 
body  is  a  hindrance  to  the  intellectual  aspirations  of  the  soul, 
to  knowledge ;  the  presence  of  impulses  and  desires  is  a  hindrance 
to  the  ethical  supremacy  of  reason,  which  reason  itself  must 
seek  to  overcome,  as  Plato  shows  in  his  ethics.  A  soul  that 
has  contemplated  the  pure  eternal  ideas  must,  in  part  at  least, 
be  like  these  ideas,  pure  and  eternal;  for  only  like  can  know 
like.  The  doctrine  of  reminiscence  proves  the  preexistence  and 
continued  existence  of  the  soul.  Other  proofs  of  immortality 
are:  the  simplicity  of  the  soul:  whatever  is  simple  cannot  be 
decomposed ;  and  its  life  or  spontaneity :  such  a  principle  of 
activity  cannot  be  destroyed;  life  cannot  become  death  (Phcedo). 

The  question  arises,  How  does  the  pure  rational  soul  happen 
to  unite  with  a  body?  At  this  point,  again,  Plato  has  recourse 
to  mythical  explanation,  combining  conceptions  suggested  by  his 
theory  of  knowledge,  and  conceptions  suggested  by  empirical 
psychology,  with  Orphic  and  Pythagorean  mysticism.  The  pure 
rational  soul,  which  was  created  by  the  Demiurge,  once  in- 
habited a  star.  But  it  became  possessed  with  a  desire  for  the 
world  of  sense  and  was  inclosed  in  a  material  body  as  in  a 
prison.  In  case  it  succeeds  in  overcoming  the  lower  side  of  its 
nature,  it  will  return  to  its  star,  otherwise  it  will  sink  lower 
and  lower,  passing  through  the  bodies  of  different  animals 
(transmigration  of  souls).  If  the  soul  had  resisted  desire  in 
its  celestial  life,  it  would  have  continued  to  occupy  itself,  in 
a  transcendent  existence,  with  the  contemplation  of  ideas.  As 
it  is,  it  is  condemned  to  pass  through  a  stage  of  purification. 

An  important  phase  of  Plato's  psychology  is  the  doctrine  of 
the  "Eros.  Just  as  sense-perception  arouses  in  the  soul  the  re- 
membrance of  pure  ideas,  or  Truth,  so  the  perception  of  sensuous 
beauty,  which  arouses  sense-love,  also  arouses  in  the  soul  the 
memory  of  ideal  Beauty  contemplated  in  its  former  existence. 


PLATO  69 

This  recollection  arouses  yearning  for  the  higher  life,  the  world 
of  pure  ideas.  Sensuous  love  and  the  yearning  for  the  beauti- 
ful and  the  good  are  one  and  the  same  impulse ;  in  yearning  for 
eternal  values,  the  soul  yearns  for  immortality.  The  sensuous 
impulse  seeks  the  continued  existence  of  the  species;  the  higher 
forms  of  the  impulse  are  the  craving  for  fame,  the  impulse  to 
create  science,  art,  and  human  institutions.  These  impulses  are 
another  evidence  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  for  what  the 
soul  desires  must  be  attainable. 

The  question  of  greatest  moment  to  Socrates  was  the  question 
of  the  good.  What  is  the  nature  or  meaning  of  the  good,  what 
is  a  good  life,  and  how  can  we  justify  such  a  life 
to  reason  ?  How  should  a  rational  being  act ;  what 
ought  to  be  his  controlling  principle?  Socrates  raised  the 
problem  and  gave  his  answer.  He  did  not  offer  a  complete  phi- 
losophy of  life  in  systematic  form,  but  laid  the  foundations  for 
such  a  structure.  Plato  takes  up  the  problem  and  seeks  to 
solve  it  in  the  light  of  his  comprehensive  world-view.  As  we 
said  before,  the  question  of  the  meaning  and  worth  of  life  and 
human  institutions  he  regards  as  involved  in  the  larger  ques- 
tion of  the  nature  and  meaning  of  the  world  and  of  man.  His 
ethics,  like  his  theory  of  knowledge,  is  based  on  his  meta- 
physics. 

The  universe  is,  at  bottom,  a  rational  universe:  a  spiritual 
system.  Objects  of  sense,  the  material  phenomena  around  us, 
are  mere  fleeting  shadows  of  eternal  and  never-changing  ideas; 
they  cannot  endure  and  have  no  worth.  Only  that  which  endures 
is  real  and  has  value:  reason  alone  has  absolute  worth  and  is 
the  highest  good.  Hence,  the  rational  part  of  man  is  the  true 
part,  and  his  ideal  must  be  to  cultivate  reason,  the  immortal  side 
of  his  soul.  The  body  and  the  senses  are  not  the  true  part; 
indeed,  the  body  is  the  prison-house  of  the  soul,  a  fetter,  de- 
liverance from  which  is  the  final  goal  of  the  spirit.  "  Where- 
fore we  ought  to  fly  away  from  earth  as  quickly  as  we  can,  and 
to  fly  away  is  to  become  like  God."  The  release  of  the  soul  from 
the  body  and  the  contemplation  of  the  beautiful  world  of  ideas, 
that  is  the  ultimate  end  of  life. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  soul,  with  its  reason,  its  spirited  part, 
and  its  appetites,  is  inclosed  in  its  dungeon  and  has  its  problems 


70  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

to  solve.  The  rational  part  is  wise  and  has  to  exercise  fore- 
thought on  behalf  of  the  entire  soul :  hence,  its  essential  func- 
tion is  to  command.  The  Individual  is  wise  in  whom  reason  rules 
over  the  other  inipulses  of  the  soul,  knowing  what  is  advan- 
tageous for  the  wjiole  inner  economy  and  for  each  member  of  it. 
The  province  of  ike  spirited  pa\rt  (will)  is  to  be  the  subject 
and  ally  of  reason:  music^aiid'g^imastTCs' will  bring  these  two 
principles  into  unison.  When  they  Imve  been  trained  and  edu- 
cated, they  will  exercise  control  over  the  appetites.  Reason  takes 
counsel,  will  fights  the  battles  of  reason,  obeys  it,  and  gives 
effect  to  its  counsels  by  its  bravery.  An  individual,  therefore, 
is  brave  when  the  spirited  part  holds  fast,  through  pain  and 
pleasure,  to  the  instructions,  of  reason  as  to  what  is  to  be  feared 
and  what  is  not.  He  is  temperate  when  will  and  appetite  agree 
with  reafon,  submitj(to  its  authority.  Temperance,  or  self-control, 
is  mastery  over  certain  kinds  of  pleasures  and  desires.  When 
these  three  inward  principles  are  in  tune,  each  doing  its 
proper  work,  the  man  is  just.  The  just  and  honorable  course 
is  that  which  a  man  pursues  in  this  frame  of  mind ;  he  has  the 
ethical  attitude  when  he  is  wise  and  brave  and  temperate,  when 
he  has  harmonized  his  soul.  Such  a  man  would  not  repudiate 
a  deposit,  commit  sacrilege  or  theft,  be  false  to  friends,  be  a 
traitor  to  his  country,  or  commit  similar  misdeeds. 

The  ideal,  therefore,  is  a  well-ordered  soul,  one  in  which  the 
higher  functions  rule  the  lower,  one  which  exercises  the 
virtues  of  wisdom  (ffocpia),  courage  (dvdpsta],  self-control 
(GGocppoevvrj),  and  justice  (dinaioavvrj).  A  life  of  reason, 
which  means  a  life  of  virtue,  is  the  highest  good.  Happiness 
attends  such  a  life ;  the  just  man  is  after  all  the  happy  man. 
Pleasure,  however,  is  not  an  end  in  itself, — it  is  not  the  high- 
est factor  in  the  life  of  the  soul,  but  the  lowest. 

There  is  in  Plato's  ethical  teaching  another  side  to  which 
we  have  already  referred,  and  which  lays  extreme  emphasis  on 
the  rational  element  in  the  soul,  regarding  the  irrational  aspect 
as  something  not  merely  to  be  subordinated,  but  to  be  cast  out. 
This  part  of  the  teaching  differs  from  the  usual  Greek  concep- 
tion; it  is  ascetic  in  its  tone,  it  is  the  doctrine  of  contemptus 
mundi,  which  we  find  in  primitive  Christianity:  the  world  we 
perceive  is  but  a  passing  show :  ' '  the  glory  of  the  world  passeth 


PLATO  71 

away,  and  the  lust  thereof."  That  which  endures,  for  Plato,  is 
reason,  truth ;  all  else  is  vanity.  Matter  is  imperfection,  a  dead 
weight  on  the  soul ;  to  be  free  from  this  clog  and  to  lose  oneself 
in  the  contemplation  of  beautiful  ideas,  or  to  see  God,  as  the 
Christians  put  it,  is  a  consummation  devoutly  to  be  wished. 
Here  the  Platonic  philosophy  culminates  in  mysticism.r-- 

Plato's  theory  of  the  State,  which  is  given  in  the  Republic, 
is  based  on  his  ethics.  Since  virtue  is  the  highest  good,  and' 
the  individual  cannot  attain  the  good  in  isolation,  Politics 
but  only  in  society,  the  mission  of  the  State  is  to 
realize  virtue  and  happiness ;  the  purpose  of  its  constitution  and 
its  laws  is  to  bring  about  conditions  which  will  enable  as  many 
men  as  possible  to  become  good;  that  is,  to  secure  the  general 
welfare.  Social  life  is  a  means  to  the  perfection  of  individuals, 
not  an  end  in  itself.  It  is  true,  the  individual  must  subordinate 
his  private  interests  to  the  public  welfare,  but  that  is  only  be- 
cause his  own  true  good  is  bound  up  with  the  social  weal.  If 
all  men  were  rational  and  virtuous,  there  would  be  no  need  of 
laws  and  a  State:  a  completely  virtuous  man  is  governed  by 
reason,  and  not  by  external  law.  Few,  however,  are  perfect; 
and  laws  are  necessary  to  the  realization  of  our  true  good.  The 
State  owes  its  origin  to  necessity.^^ 

The  State  should  be  organized  like  the  universe  at  large  and 
the  individual  virtuous  soul;  that  is,  reason  should  rule  in  it. 
There  are  as  many  classes  in  society  as  there  are  functions  of 
the  soul,  and  the  relations  of  these  classes  to  each  other  should 
correspond  to  those  obtaining  in  a  healthy  soul.  Those  who 
have  received  philosophical  training  represent  reason  and>ought 
to  be  the  ruling  class;  the  warrior  class  represent  the  ^pirited 
element  or  will :  their  task  is  defense ;  the  agriculturists, 
and  merchants  represent  the  lower  appetites,  and  have  as 
function  the  production  of  material  goods.*  Justice  is  realij 
in  a  State  in  which  each  class,  the  industrial,  military, 
guardian,  does  its  own  work  and  sticks  to  its  own  business. 
State  is  temperate  and  brave  and  wise  in  consequence  of  cer- 
tain affections  and  conditions  of  these  same  classes.  It  is  master 

*  Among  the  nations,  Plato  regarded  the  Phoenicians  as  representing  the 
lower  appetites,  the  barbarous  peoples  of  the  North  as  representing  tho 
spirited  element  or  will,  the  Greeks  as  representing  reason. 


72  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

of  itself  when  the  desires  of  the  vulgar  many  are  controlled 
by  the  desires  and  the  wisdom  of  the  few,  when  the  governors 
and  the  governed  are  unanimous  on  the  question  who  ought  to 
govern.  Every  individual  ought  to  have  some  one  occupation  in 
the  State,  which  should  be  that  to  which  his  natural  capacity 
is  best  adapted.  Justice  is  to  have  and  do  what  belongs  to  us 
and  is  our  own;  to  mind  one's  business  and  not  to  be  meddle- 
some. 

The  ideal  society  forms  a  complete  unity,  one  large  family; 
hence,  Plato  opposes  private  property  and  monogamous  mar- 
riage, and  recommends,  for  the  two  upper  castes  (who  are  to  be 
supported  by  the  workers),  communism  and  the  common  pos- 
session of  wives  and  children.  Among  his  othewrecommendations 
are  supervision  of  marriages  and  births  (eugenics),  exposure 
of  weak  children,  compulsory  state  education,  education  of 
women  for  war  and  government,  censorship  of  works  of  art 
and  literature.  Plato  did  not  have  a  high  opinion  of  art,  re- 
garding it  as  an  imitation  of  the  world  of  sense,  which  is  itself 
a  mere  copy  of  the  true  essences  of  things ;  art,  therefore,  is  an 
imitation  of  an  imitation.  It  can  and  should,  however,  he 
thought,  be  made  a  means  to  moral  culture. 

The  State  is  an  educational  institution,  the  instrument  of 
civilization,  and  as  such  it  must  have  its  foundation  in  the  high- 
est kind  of  knowledge  attainable,  that  is,  philosophy.  "  Unless 
it  happen  either  that  philosophers  acquire  the  kingly  power  in 
states,  or  that  those  who  are  now  called  kings  and  potentates  be 
imbued  with  a  sufficient  measure  of  genuine  philosophy,  that  is 
to  say,  unless  political  power  and  philosophy  be  united  in  the 
same  person  .  .  .  there  will  be  no  deliverance  for  cities  nor 
yet  for  the  human  race."  The  State  shall  undertake  the  edu- 
cation of  the  children  (of  the  higher  classes),  following  a  defi- 
nite plan  of  instruction,  which  shall  be  the  same  for  the  first 
twenty  years  of  life  and  apply  to  both  sexes,  and  shall  include : 
bodily  exercises  (in  infancy)  ;  the  narration  of  myths  with  a 
view  to  ethical  culture;  gymnastics,  which  develops  not  only 
the  body  but  the  will;  reading  and  writing;  poetry  and  music, 
which  arouse  the  sense  of  beauty,  harmony,  and  proportion  and 
encourage  philosophical  thought;  mathematics,  which  tends  to 
draw  the  mind  from  the  sensuous  to  the  real;  and  military 


PLATO  *S"  73 

exercises.  A  selection  of  the  choice  characters  shall  be  made 
from  the  ranks  of  the  young  men  at  twenty,  and  these  shall 
study  the  different  subjects  of  their  childhood  in  their  interrela- 
tions and  learn  to  survey  them  as  a  whole.  Those  who,  at  the 
age  of  thirty,  show  the  greatest  ability  in  these  fields,  in  military 
affairs,  and  other  branches  of  discipline  will  study  dialectics  for 
five  years,  after  which  they  will  be  put  to  the  test  in  holding 
military  commands  and  secondary  civic  offices.  At  the  age  of 
fifty  those  who  have  shown  themselves  worthy  will  devote  them- 
selves to  the  study  of  philosophy  until  their  turn  comes  to 
administer  the  higher  offices  for  their  country's  sake. 

Plato's  Republic  is  an  ideal  of  a  perfect  state,  the  dream  of 
a  kingdom  of  God  on  earth.  It  is  frequently  spoken  of  as 
Utopian.  It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  it  was  con- 
ceived by  Plato  as  a  small  city-state,  that  many  of  his  ' '  ideals  ' ' 
were  actual  realities  in  Sparta,  and  that  not  a  few  of  them  are 
regarded  as  matters  of  fact  to-day. 

In  his  later  work,  the  Laws,  Plato  greatly  modifies  his  po- 
litical theory.  A  good  State  should  have,  besides  reason  or 
insight,  freedom  and  friendship.  All  citizens  should  be  free 
and  have  a  share  in  the  government ;  they  are  to  be  landowners, 
while  all  trade  and  commerce  should  be  given  over  to  serfs  and 
foreigners.  The  family  is  restored  to  its  natural  position. 
Knowledge  is  not  everything :  there  are  other  motives  of  virtuous 
conduct,  e.g.,  pleasure  and  friendship,  pain  and  hate.  Virtue, 
however,  remains  the  ideal,  and  the  education  of  the  moral  will 
the  goal. 

Plato's  philosophy  is  rationalistic  in  the  sense  that  it  holds 
a  rational  knowledge  of  the  universe  to  be  possible,  as  well 
as  in  the  sense  that  the  source  of  knowledge  lies 

in  reason   and  not  in  sense-perception.     Experi-  £!.ato's. 

.  Historical 

ence,  however,  is  a  necessary  means  of  arousing  Position 

our  a  priori  ideas.  It  is  realistic  in  the  sense  that 
it  affirms  the  existence  of  a  real  world;  idealistic,  or  spir- 
itualistic, in  the  sense  that  this  world  is  conceived  as  an  ideal 
or  mental  world;  phenomenalistic  in  the  sense  that  the  sense- 
world  is  a  world  of  appearances  or  phenomena  of  the  real  world. 
In  this  sense,  too,  it  is  radically  anti-materialistic.  It  is  panthe- 
istic in  the  sense  that  all  phenomena  are  looked  upon  as  mani- 


74  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

festations  of  an  intelligible  world-order,  and  also  in  the  sense 
of  introducing  an  all-uniting  world-soul.  It  is  theistic  in  the 
sense  of  admitting  a  Creator,  or  Demiurge,  though  this  figure 
is  mythical,  and  philosophically  out  of  place  in  the  system.  It 
teaches  transcendency  in  that  its  ideal  world  transcends  the 
world  of  experience:  the  pure  ideas  seem  to  shun  the  contami- 
nation of  the  material  element;  immanency,  in  that  the  world- 
soul  is  diffused  over  all  space.  It  is  anti-mechanistic  and  teleo- 
logical  in  that  it  seeks  the  ultimate  explanation  of  the  world  in 
final  causes  or  purposes,  embracing  all  these  under  a  universal 
purpose :  the  idea  of  the  Good.  It  is  dualistic  in  the  sense  that 
it  has  two  principles  of  explanation,  mind  and  matter.  It  is 
fundamentally  ethical  in  that  the  final  cause  of  the  whole  world 
is  the  idea  of  the  Good.  Its  ethical  theory  is  anti-hedonistic, 
intuitionistic,  and  idealistic,  a  self-realization  theory  we  might 
say,  though  the  term  is  apt  to  be  misunderstood.  Its  political 
theory  is  aristocratic  and  socialistic. 

The  great  influence  of  this  system  on  later  Greek  thought  and 
on  Christian  philosophy  and  theology  is  easily  understood.  It 
is  a  world-view  with  a  remarkable  span,  attempting  to  ration- 
alize nearly  every  field  of  human  interest  and  endeavor.  To 
Christianity,  when  it  sought  to  make  its  message  intelligible  and 
reasonable  to  the  educated  Roman  world,  it  became  a  treasure- 
house  of  thoughts.  Its  idealism,  its  teleology,  its  conception  of 
a  system  of  ideas  as  patterns  of  the  world,  its  dualism,  its  mys- 
ticism, its  contempt  for  matter  and  the  world  of  sense,  its  ethical 
State,  its  proofs  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  its  doctrine  of 
the  fall  of  man, — all  these  teachings,  and  many  more  besides, 
were  welcome  gifts  to  those  who  wished  to  justify  the  new  faith 
to  reason.  We  shall  have  occasion,  later  on,  to  point  out  how 
much  Christian  theology  owed  to  the  Greeks,  and  how  pro- 
foundly the  greatest  thinker  of  the  early  Church,  St.  Augustine, 
was  influenced  by  Plato.  And  what  a  vital  force  his  idealism 
has  remained  in  the  philosophy  of  the  entire  European  world, 
down  to  the  present,  will  be  seen  at  every  step. 

The  Academy  established  by  Plato  was  continued  by  his  pupils 
after  his  death.  The  school  at  first  followed  the  Pythagorean 
doctrines  which  Plato  had  adopted  during  his  old  age,  and  iden- 


ARISTOTLE  75 

tified  ideas  with  numbers.  It  also  emphasized  the  ethical  studies. 
This  phase  of  the  school  is  called  the  Older  Academy :  its  schol- 
archs  or  heads  were  Plato's  nephew,  Speusippus  (from  347  to 
339  B.C.),  Xenocrates  (339-314),  Polemo  (314- 
270),  and  Crates  (270-247).  Other  members 
of  the  Old  Academy  were:  Heraclides  of  Pontus, 
Philippus  of  Opus,  Hestiasus  of  Perinthus,  and  Eudoxus  of 
Cnidus.  Crates 's  successor  Arcesilaus  (247-241)  introduced 
skepticism  into  the  Academy  and  founded  the  second  or  Middle 
Academy,  which  remained  true  to  the  teachings  of  Arcesilaus 
until  Carneades  became  its  head  (before  156),  and  the  founder 
of  the  third  or  New  Academy.  (See  pp.  116,  ff.) 

10.   ARISTOTLE 

Plato  was  the  first  Greek  thinker  to  construct  an  idealistic 
philosophy  on  a  comprehensive  scale.  The  system,  however, 
presented  difficulties  and  inconsistencies,  which 
had  to  be  considered  and,  if  possible,  overcome. 
The  early  Platonic  school  did  little  to  develop  the 
thought  of  its  founder ;  it  did  what  schools  generally  do,  it  trans- 
mitted his  doctrines  very  largely  as  they  had  been  received.  It 
was  left  to  Aristotle,  a  pupil  of  independent  mind,  to  recon- 
struct the  system,  to  develop  it  in  what  seemed  to  him  a  more 
consistent  and  scientific  manner.  First  of  all,  the  problem  of 
transcendent  ideas  had  to  be  reconsidered :  Plato  seemed  to  place 
the  eternal  forms  (as  Aristotle  calls  them)  beyond  the  stars, 
to  separate  them  from  the  actual  world  of  experience,  and  to  de- 
grade this  to  mere  appearance.  Then  there  was  the  conception 
of  the  secondary  element,  the  Platonic  matter,  which  needed  to 
be  defined  more  precisely  in  order  to  become  a  satisfactory  prin- 
ciple of  explanation.  The  gulf  between  form  and  matter  had 
to  be  bridged  somehow:  how  could  the  remote  and  changeless 
ideas  place  their  impress  upon  a  lifeless  and  irrational  sub- 
stratum? Other  difficulties  presented  themselves.  How  shall 
we  account  for  the  progressively  changing  forms  of  things ;  how 
for  the  existence  of  individual  immortal  souls  and  their  presence 
in  human  bodies?  The  Demiurge  and  the  world-soul  are  make- 
shifts; the  recourse  to  mythology  and  the  popular  religion  a 


76  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

confession  of  ignorance.  The  dualism  remains  and  extends  to 
every  phase  of  the  system,  and  the  problems  are  not  solved.  So 
at  least  it  seemed  to  Plato's  pupil. 

Aristotle  retains  the  changeless  eternal  forms,  the  idealistic 
principles  of  the  teacher,  but  rejects  their  transcendency.  He 
brings  them  down  from  heaven  to  earth,  so  to  speak.  Forms 
are  not  apart  from  things,  but  in  them;  they  are  not  tran- 
scendent, but  immanent.  Matter  is  not  non-being  (M  ov) 
but  dynamic  (dwajtei  ov)  •  form  and  matter  are  not  separate, 
but  eternally  together:  matter  realizes  the  form  or  idea  of  the 
thing,  moves  and  changes,  grows,  or  evolves  formward.  The 
world  of  sense,  the  phenomenal  order,  is  not  a  mere  imitation 
or  shadow  of  the  real  world ;  it  is  the  real  world,  form  and  mat- 
ter in  one,  and  the  true  object  of  Science.  It  is  because  he 
conceives  it  so  that  Aristotle  feels  at  home  in  it,  that  he  studies 
it  sympathetically,  that  his  theories  always  keep  in  close  touch 
with  it,  and  that  he  encourages  the  natural  sciences. 


Aristotle  was  born  384  B.C.,  in  Stagira,  the  son  of  Nicomachus,  the 
court  physician  of  Philip  of  Macedon.  At  the  age  of  seventeen  he 
entered  Plato's  Academy,  where  he  remained  for  twenty  years  as 
student  and  teacher.  After  the  death  of  Plato  (347),  he  journeyed 
to  Assos,  in  Mysia,  thence  to  Mitylene,  and  is  said  to  have  returned 
to  Athens  to  open  a  school  of  rhetoric.  In  342  he  was  called  by 
King  Philip  to  direct  the  education  of  his  son  Alexander,  afterwards 
called  the  Great.  Seven  years  later  he  came  back  to  Athens,  this  time 
to  establish  a  school  in  the  gymnasium  dedicated  to  the  Lycean  Apollo, 
from  which  the  school  received  its  historic  name,  the  Lyceum.  (It  has 
also  been  called  the  Peripatetic  School,  because  of  Aristotle's  habit  of 
walking  while  giving  instruction.)  He  taught  by  means  of  lectures 
and  the  dialogue.  After  the  sudden  death  of  Alexander  in  323,  the 
philosopher  was  accused  of  sacrilege  by  the  anti-Macedonian  party  at 
Athens  and  compelled  to  flee  to  Euboea,  where  he  died  322  B.C. 

Aristotle  was  a  man  of  noble  character,  realizing  in  his  personality 
the  Greek  ideal  of  measure  and  harmony  taught  in  his  system  of 
ethics.  His  love  of  truth  was  strong,  his  judgment  sober,  impartial, 
and  acute;  he  was  a  master  of  dialectics,  a  lover  of  detail,  a  great 
reader,  a  close  observer,  and  a  specialist.  His  literary  style  was  like 
his  thinking,  sober,  scientific,  familiar,  free  from  embellishment  and 
flights  of  fancy,  even  dry.  One  seldom  feels  the  glow  of  his  own  per- 
sonality in  his  works;  it  is  only  on  rare  occasions  that  he  gives  ex- 
pression to  his  emotions.  In  these  respects,  he  was  unlike  his  great 
teacher  Plato.  In  perusing  his  works  we  seem  to  be  in  the  presence 
of  calm  impersonal  reason.  He  is,  however,  one  of  the  greatest  figures 
in  the  history  of  thought,  a  universal  genius.  He  wrote  on  a  large 


ARISTOTLE  7? 

number  of  topics:  logic,  rhetoric,  poetics,  physics,  botany,  zoology, 
psychology,  ethics,  economics,  politics,  and  metaphysics.  ' 

A  "large  collection  of  writings  attributed  to  Aristotle  has  come  down 
to  us,  most  of  them  genuine.  Many  of  his  books,  however,  seem  to 
have  been  lost.  Andronicus,  who  published  an  edition  of  his  works 
between  60  and  50  B.C.,  places  the  number  of  books  (chapters,  we 
should  say)  written  by  Aristotle  at  1000.  Of  the  works  published  by 
him  for  wider  circles  of  readers,  only  fragments  remain;  the  material 
that  has  been  preserved  represents  his  lectures  to  his  pupils  and  was 
not  intended  for  publication. 

We  may,  following  Zeller,  arrange  the  extant  writings  in  the  follow- 
ing groups:  (1)  Logic  (writings  called  by  the  followers  of  Aristotle 
the  Organon,  the  organ  or  instrument  for  acquiring  knowledge).  Cate- 
gories (mutilated  and  added  to  by  later  hands;  largely  genuine,  though 
this  is  doubted  by  some  authorities) ;  Propositions  (gives  the  Aristo- 
telian teaching,  but  is  not  genuine) ;  the  two  Analytics  (Syllogism; 
Definition,  Classification,  Demonstration) ;  Topics  (nine  books  on  Prob- 
ability). Sophistic  Fallacies  is  the  last  book  of  the  Topics. 

(2)  Rhetoric.    Rhetoric  to  Theodectes  (based  on  Aristotle's  teachings, 
but  not  his  work) ;  Rhetoric  to  Alexander  (spurious) ;  Rhetoric  (three 
books,  third  doubtful).    The  theory  of  art  is  presented  in  the  Poetics, 
of  which  only  a  part  remains. 

(3)  Metaphysics.     A  series  of  fourteen  books,  dealing  mainly  with 
first  principles,  were  placed,  in  the  collection  of  Andronicus,  immedi- 
ately after  the  writings  on  physics,  and  bore  the  heading  ra  fiera  ra  QvoiKd 
(meta  ta  physica,  or  writings  coming  after  the  writings  on  physics), 
simply  to  indicate  their  position  in  the  collection.     This  is  the  origin 
of  the  term  metaphysics:  Aristotle  himself  never  used  it,  but  called 
such  discussions  of  first  principles  "  First  Philosophy."    These  fourteen 
books  were  not  intended  by  Aristotle  as  a  single  work.    Book  II  (a)  and 
parts  of  Book  XI  are  spurious. 

(4)  Natural    Sciences.      Physics    (eight    books,    Book    VII    an    in- 
terpolation) ;  Astronomy  (four  books) ;  Origin  and  Decay  (two  books) ; 
Meteorology  (four  books) ;  Cosmology  (spurious) ;  Botany  (spurious) ; 
History  of  Animals   (ten  books,  Book  X  spurious) ;  On  the  Parts  of 
Animals  (four  books) ;  On  the  Progression  of  Animals  (not  genuine, 
according  to  some) ;  On  the  Origin  of  Animals   (five  books) ;  On  the 
Locomotion  of  Animals  (spurious).     Psychology.     On  the  Soul  (eight 
books,  three  treating  of  sensation,  memory,  sleep  and  waking;  others, 
called  parva  naturalia,  are  smaller  treatises,  which  have  been  added, 
while  the  last  book  on  breathing  is  post- Aristotelian). 

(5)  Ethics.     Nicomachean   Ethics    (ten   books;   additions  from  the 
Eudemian  Ethics  have  been  made  in  Books  V-VII) ;  Eudemian  Ethics 
(a  revision  of  the  former  by  Eudemus:  only  Books  I-III  and  VI  pre- 
served) ;  Magna  Moralia,  the  Greater  Ethics   (a  compilation  of  the 
two  preceding). 

(6)  Politics.     Politics    (eight    books,    apparently    incomplete) ;    On 
the  Constitution  of  Athens   (part  of  Politics,  discovered   1890).     The 
work  on  economics  attributed  to  Aristotle  is  not  authentic. 

Complete  edition  of  works  by  Bekker  and  Brandis;  collection  of 
fragments  by  Rose;  translations  appearing  under  editorship  of  J.  A. 


78  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Smith  and  W.  S.  Ross.  Index  to  works  by  Bonitz;  Kappes,  Aristoteles- 
Lexikon.  Other  translations :  Posterior  Analytics  and  Sophistici  Elenchi 
by  Poste;  Metaphysics  by  Ross,  Book  I  by  Taylor;  Psychology  by 
Hammond,  Hicks,  Wallace;  Parva  naturalia  by  Beare  and  Ross; 
Nicomachean  Ethics  by  Welldon,  Peters;  Politics  by  Welldon,  Jowett 
(2  vols.),  Ellis;  Constitution  of  Athens  by  Kenyon;  Poetics  by  By- 
water,  Butcher,  Lane  Cooper,  Wharton;  Rhetoric  by  Welldon.  (Nearly 
all  these  works  also  in  Bohn  Library;  in  addition:  Organon  and 
History  of  Animals.)  Burnet,  Aristotle  on  Education,  translations  of 
parts  of  Ethics  and  Politics. 

A.  E.  Taylor,  Aristotle;  E.  Wallace,  Outlines  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Aristotle;  Grant,  Aristotle;  Grote,  Aristotle;  T.  H.  Green,  Aristotle,  in 
Works;  Chase,  Ethics  of  Aristotle;  A.  C.  Bradley,  Aristotle's  Theory 
of  State  in  Hellenica;  Davidson,  Aristotle  and  Ancient  Educational 
Ideals;  Jones,  Aristotle's  Researches  in  Natural  Science;  Siebeck, 
Aristoteles;  Brentano,  Aristoteles  und  seine  Weltanschauung;  Piat, 
Aristote;  special  works  by  Bernays  (on  theory  of  the  drama),  Maier 
(syllogism),  F.  Brentano  (psychology). 

Aristotle  accepts  the   idealistic  and  teleological   presupposi- 
tions of  his  teacher:  the  universe  is  an  ideal  world,  an  inter- 
related, organic  whole,  a  system  of  eternal  and 
Philosophy      unchangeable   ideas   or   forms    (d'drj).    These   are 
Sciences  *ne   ultimate   essences   and   causes   of  things,   the 

directing  forces  or  purposes  that  make  them  what 
they  are.  Ideas  are  not,  however,  detached  from  the  world  we 
perceive,  but  part  and  parcel  of  it,  immanent  in  it;  they  give 
it  form  and  life.  Our  world  of  experience  is  the  real  world, 
and  not  an  untrustworthy  appearance.  Hence,  it  is  the  object 
for  us  to  study  and  to  understand ;  and  experience  the  basis  and 
starting-point  of  our  knowledge,  from  which  to  rise  to  the  science 
of  ultimate  principles.  This  conception  of  reality  gives  our 
philosopher,  who  was  the  son  of  a  physician,  his  wholesome 
respect  for  the  concrete  and  particular,  accounts  for  his  interest 
in  natural  science,  and  determines  his  method.  Genuine  knowl- 
edge (eTriffTr/jMi),  however,  does  not  consist  in  mere  acquaint- 
ance with  facts,  but  in  knowing  their  reasons  or  causes  or 
grounds,  in  knowing  that  they  cannot  be  otherwise  than  they 
are.  Philosophy,  or  Science  in  the  broad  sense,  embraces  all 
such  reasoned  knowledge;  it  includes  mathematics  as  well  as 
the  special  sciences.  The  science  or  philosophy  which  studies 
the  ultimate  or  first  causes  of  things  is  called  by  Aristotle  the 
first  philosophy;  we  call  it  metaphysics.  Metaphysics  is  con- 


ARISTOTLE  v--^\ 79 

cerned  with  being  as  such;  the  different  sciences,  with  certain 
parts  or  phases  of  being ;  physics,  for  example,  with  being  in  so 
far  as  it  has  matter  and  motion.  These  other,  partial,  sciences 
or  philosophies  are  named  second  philosophies. 

Aristotle  further  distinguishes  between  theoretical  sciences 
(mathematics,  ptiysics,  and  metaphysics),  practical  sciences 
(ethics  and  politics),  and  creative  sciences  or  arts  (knowledge 
concerned  with  mechanical  and  artistic  production).  Of  these, 
he  takes  up  physics  (physics,  astronomy,  biology,  etc.),  meta- 
,  and  practical  philosophy,  so  that  we  have,  if  we  add 
logic,  the  general  division  of  Plato:  logic,  metaphysics,  and 
ethics. 

The  function  of  logic  is  to  describe  the  method  of  reaching 
knowledge.     Socrates  and  Plato  had  already  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  this  study,  but  Aristotle  was  the  first  to         . 
work  it  out  in  detail,  and  to  make  a  special  dis- 
cipline of  it.    He  is  the  founder  of  scientific  logic.    He  considers 
it  an  important  instrument  for  the  acquisition  of  genuine  knowl- 
edge, and  holds  that  we  should  not  proceed  to  the  study  of  the 
first  philosophy,  or  the  science  of  the  essence  of  things,  until 
we  have  familiarized  ourselves  with  the  Analytics.    Logic,  there- 
fore, is  an  introduction  or  propaedeutic  to  philosophy. 

Its  theme  is  the  analysis  of  the  form  and  content  of  thought, 
of  the  processes  by  which  we  reach  knowledge;  it  is  the  science 
of  correct  thinking.  Thinking  consists  in  reasoning,  or  scien- 
tific demonstration,  in  deriving  the  particular  from  the  uni- 
versal, the  conditioned  from  its  causes.  Inferences  are  com- 
posed of  judgments,  which,  when  expressed  in  language,  are 
called  propositions;  judgments  are  made  up  of  concepts,  which 
are  expressed  in  terms.  Aristotle  discusses  the  nature  and  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  judgments,  the  various  relations  in  which  they 
stand  to  one  another,  and  the  different  kinds  of  demonstration, 
defining  and  classifying  these  processes  as  they  are  still  largely 
defined  and  classified  in  the  text-books  of  formal  logic  to-day. 
Concepts  do  not  receive  exhaustive  treatment  in  his  logic;  he 
does,  however,  deal  with  the  concept  in  the  narrow  sense,  that 
is,  with  definition  and  the  rules  of  definition ;  and  also  with  the 
highest  concepts,  or  categories. 

He   devotes  considerable   attention  to  demonstration,   which 


80  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

is  based  on  the  syllogism, — a  field  neglected  by  Plato.  He  was 
the  first,  as  Zeller  says,  to  discover  in  the  syllogism  the  basal 
form  in  which  all  thought  moves,  and  to  give  it  a  name.  The 
syllogism  is  a  discourse  (koyo?)  in  which  from  certain  presup- 
positions (premises)  something  new  (the  conclusion)  necessarily 
follows.  In  the  syllogism  the  particular  is  derived  from  the 
universal:  it  is  deductive  reasoning.  Induction  consists  in 
deriving  a  universal  proposition  from  particular  facts  of  experi- 
ence: in  order  to  be  valid,  the  process  must  be  complete  or 
perfect,  that  is,  based  on  knowledge  of  all  the  cases. 

Valid  or  scientific  demonstration  is,  therefore,  always  in  the 
form  of  the  syllogism :  it  is  syllogistic  and  deductive.  In  order 
to  be  true,  the  conclusion  must  follow  necessarily  from  the 
premises.  And  the  premises  themselves  must  be  universal  and 
necessary,  hence  they,  too,  must  be  proved,  i.e.,  grounded  on 
other  premises.  The  goal  of  knowledge  is  complete  demonstra- 
tion.* This  is  possible  only  in  a  series  of  syllogisms  in  which 
conclusions  depend  on  premises  which,  in  turn,  are  the  conclu- 
sions of  other  premises,  and  so  on.  But  the  process  cannot  go 
on  forever;  we  must  finally  reach  propositions  or  principles 
which  cannot  be  proved  deductively,  and  which,  nevertheless, 
^  have  absolute  certainty,  greater  certainty,  indeed,  than  all  the 
propositions  derived  from  them.  We  have  such  direct  or  imme- 
diate, intuitive  or  -self -evident  principles  (apx&i),  e.g.,  the 
axioms  of  mathematics  and  the  principle  of  contradiction.  Each 
particular  science  has  such  principles  of  its  own,  and  there  are, 
besides,  universal  principles  common  to  all  the  sciences,  the 
principles  of  first  philosophy,  or  metaphysics. 

The  basal  notions  or  principles  are  inherent  in  reason  itself 
(vovs),  the  highest  part  of  the  soul;  they  are  direct  intuitions 
of  reason.  They  can  also  be  verified  by  induction,  the  process 
in  which  thought  rises  from  sense-perception,  or  the  perception 
of  individual  things,  to  general  concepts,  or  the  knowledge  of 
universals.  Human  reason  has  the  power  of  abstracting  from 
the  particular  its  form,  or  that  in  which  it  agrees  with  other 
particulars  of  the  same  name.  Such  forms  constitute  the  essences 

*  The  ideal  science  in  Aristotle's  day  was  mathematics,  hence  the  im- 
portant rSle  deduction  plays  in  his  logic.  His  aim  was  to  reach  the  cer- 
tainly of  mathematics. 


ARISTOTLE  81 

of  things  ;  they  are  real.  They  are,  however,  not  only  the  prin- 
ciples or  essences  of  things,  but  also  principles  Qf^reason  ;_being 
potential  in  the  mind.  Experience  is  necessary  to  "firmg  lhen\ 
out,  to  make  reason  aware  of  them,  to  bring  them  to  conscious-) 
ness.  That  is,  they  are  implicit  in  the  mind  and  made  explicit, 
or  actual  by  experience.  They  are  both  forms  of  thought  and  ) 

' 


itself.  This  is  a  basal  idea  of  Aristotle's: 
thought  and  being  coincide;  truth  is  the  agreement  of  thought 
with  being. 

Our  knowledge,  therefore,  always  begins  with  sense-perception 
and  rises  from  particular  facts  to  universal  concepts,  i.e.,  from 
"  that  which  is  the  better  known  to  us  "  to  "  that  which  is  the 
better  known  and  more  certain  in  itself."  Universals  are  the 
last  things  we  reacfe-4n^  our  Chinking,  but  first  in  nature:  they 
are  the  first  principle^s^^ 

Hence,  induction  is  "a  preparation  for  deduction.  The  ideal 
of  Science  must  always  be  to  derive  particulars  from  universals, 
to  furnish  demonstration  or  necessary  proof,  which  cannot  be 
done  until  induction  has  done  its  work,  until  the  universals  lying 
dormant  in  our  reason  have  been  aroused  by  experience.  In 
this  way  Aristotle  reconciles  empiricism  and  rationalism.  Knowl- 
edge is  impossible  without  experience;  but  truths  derived  from 
experience,  by  induction,  would  not  be  certain,  —  they  would 
yield  probability  only,  —  hence  they  must  also  be  a  priori,  implicit 
in  the  mind.  Without  experience,  truths  would  never  be  known  ; 
without  being  implicit  in  reason,  they  would  not  be  certain. 

By  the  categories  Aristotle  means  the  most  general  forms  of 
predication,  the  fundamental  and  most  universal  predicates 
which  can  be  affirmed  of  anything.  He  enumerates  ten,  some- 
times only  eight,  such  categories.  We  can  say  of  a  thing  what 
it  is  (man:  substance),  how  it  is  constituted  (white:  quality), 
how  large  it  is  (two  yards  long:  quantity),  how  related  (greater, 
double:  relation),  where  it  is  (in  the  Lyceum:  space),  when  it 
is  (yesterday:  time),  what  posture  or  position  it  assumes  (lies, 
sits:  position),  the  state  it  is  in  (clothed,  armed),  what  it  does 
(burns:  activity),  and  what  it  suffers  (is  burned:  passivity). 
All  this  means  that  the  objects  of  our  experience  exist  in  time 
and  place,  can  be  measured  and  counted,  are  related  to  other 
things,  act  and  are  acted  on,  have  essential  qualities  and  acci- 


82  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

dental  qualities.  The  categories  are  not  mere  forms  of  thought 
or  language, — they  are  that,  to  be  sure, — they  are  also  predicates 
of  reality  as  such:  every  word  and  concept  has  something  real 
corresponding  to  it.  The  particular,  perceivable  substance  is 
the  bearer  of  all  these  categories,  it  is  that  of  which  they  can  all 
be  predicated.  Hence,  the  category  of  substance  is  the  all- 
important  one,  the  others  exist  only  in  so  far  as  they  can  be 
predicated  of  substance.  Science,  therefore,  deals  with  the  cate- 
gory of  being,  or  essence,  or  substance,  i.e.,  with  the  essential 
qualities  of  things.  This  leads  us  to  Aristotle's  metaphysics. 

The  problem  of  metaphysics  is  the  discovery  of  ultimate  prin- 
ciples. How  shall  we  explain  the  world,  what  is  it  in  essence? 
.  Democritus  and  his  school  had  reduced  it  to  mov- 
ing material  atoms,  Plato  to  transcendent  ideas, 
which  somehow  influence  formless  matter.  Aristotle  rejects 
both  answers,  and  seeks  to  mediate  between  them.  The  idea  or 
form  cannot  be  a  self-existent  essence,  apart  from  matter,  as 
Plato  has  it ;  a  quality  cannot  exist  apart  from  its  object ;  jthere 
can  be  no  form  without  matter.  Nor  can  the  changing  reality 
perceived  by  us  be  explained  by  mere  purposeless  matter  in 
motion,  as  the  materialists  hold;  there  can  be  no  matter  with- 
out directing  purpose  or  form.  Plato  regarded  the  objects  of 
concrete  experience  as  mere  incomplete  copies  of  the  universal 
idea,  as  accidents,  and  the  form  as  the  substance;  Aristotle,  on 
the  other  hand,  regards  the  particular  objects  or  individual  be- 
ings as  real  substances.  But  the  essence  or  true  nature  of  the 
particular  concrete  being  is  constituted  by  its  form,  by  the  gen- 
eral qualities  belonging  to  the  class  to  which  it  belongs ;  so  that, 
after  all,  the  form,  or  idea,  is  for  him,  too,  the  most  essential 
element. 

The  particular  object,  however,  changes  or  grows;  all  that 
is  perceived  is  changeable,  it  is  and  it  is  not,  it  can  be  and  not 
be ;  it  assumes  now  these  qualities,  now  those,  it  is  now  seed,  now 
sapling,  now  tree,  now  fruit.  How  shall  we  explain  this  process 
of  becoming  ?  There  must  be  something  that  changes,  something 
that  persists  in  the  change,  something  that  has  the  different 
qualities  of  which  we  have  spoken.  This  is  matter  (vXrj)  :  mat- 
ter persists,  matter  itself  cannot  disappear.  Matter  must 
always  have  some  qualities;  we  never  experience  a  formless 


ARISTOTLE  83 

matter,  hence  matter  and  qualities,  or  forms,  exist  together.  So 
that  when  we  say  an  object  changes  its  form,  we  do  not  mean 
that  the  form  itself  changes  or  becomes  different:  no  form,  as 
such,  can  change  into  another  form.  Matter  assumes  different 
forms,  a  series  of  forms,  one  form  following  another;  matter 
persists,  the^foffiflt  first  had  does  not  change  into  another  form, 
but  a  new  form  fashions  the  matter.  The  different  forms  have 
always  existed,  they  do  not  suddenly  come  into  being.  Hence, 
neither  matter  nor  forms  arise  or  disappear ;  they  are  the  eternal 
principles  of  things.  In  order  to  explain  change  or  growth,  we 
must  assume  a  substratum  (matter)  that  persists  and  changes, 
and  qualities  (forms)  which,  though  never  changing,  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  rich  and  growing  world  around  us. 

When  a  thing  has  reached  its  growth,  it  has  realized  its  mean- 
ing, its  purpose,  or  form :  the  form  is  its  true  being,  its  realiza- 
tion or  completion  (eVreA^fz**).  Its  possibilities  have  been 
realized,  that  which  was  potential  in  it  (dvva^i^}  has  become 
actual  (evfpyeia).  Matter  has  taken  on  form;  the  acorn  be- 
comes an  oak,  the  acorn  is  a  potential  oak ;  the  oak  is  the  realiza- 
tion of  its  potentiality,  it  is  the  form  made  manifest,  real,  actual. 
Aristotle,  therefore,  calls  matter  the  principle  of  possibility,  and 
form  the  principle  of  reality,  or  actuality.  Only  primary  mat- 
ter, however,  formless  matter,  which  we  can  think,  but  which 
does  not  exist  as  such,  is  mere  possibility;  concrete  matter 
always  has  form,  is,  in  a  sense,  actual.  But  it  is  a  mere  possi- 
bility as  regards  some  other  form  or  actuality:  the  seed  is 
matter  for  the  oak ;  the  marble,  matter  for  the  statue. 

In  order,  then,  to  explain  our  world  of  change  we  must  assume 
forms  and  matter.  Every  form  is,  like  the  Platonic  idea,  eternal, 
but  instead  of  being  outside  of  matter,  it  is  in  matter:  forms 
and  matter  have  always  coexisted ;  the  universe  is  eternal.  Form 
realizes  itself  in  the  thing;  it  causes  the  matter  to  move:  an 
end  or  purpose  is  realized  by  the  thing.  An  artist  in  producing 
a  work  of  art  has  an  idea  or  plan  in  his  mind ;  he  acts  on  matter 
through  the  motion  of  his  hands,  being  governed  in  his  action 
by  his  plan,  and  so  realizes  a  purpose.  We  can  distinguish 
four  principles  in  this  process,  four  kinds  of  causes:  the  idea 
or  form  (that  which  is,  the  statue  in  his  mind),  the  formal  cause ; 
the  matter  (that  from  which  the  statue  is  made),  the  material 


84  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

cause;  the  cause  of  the  motion  (that  through  which  it  is  made), 
the  efficient  or  moving  cause ;  and  the  purpose  or  end  ( that  for 
the  sake  of  which  it  is  made),  the  final  cause.  The  same  causes 
are  at  work  in  nature,  particularly  in  the  organic  world;  only, 
in  nature  the  artist  and  his  product  are  not  separate,  but  one; 
the  artist  is  in  his  work,  so  to  speak.  But  the  form  or  plan 
and  the  end  or  purpose  really  coincide:  the  purpose  of  the 
organism  is  the  realization  of  its  form.  And  the  form  or  idea 
is,  also,  the  cause  of  the  motion,  so  that,  after  all,  we  have  only 
two  essential  causes, — form  and  matter, — which  constitute  one 
indivisible  whole,  distinguishable  only  by  thought. 

Forms  are  purposive  forces  which  realize  themselves  in  the 
world  of  matter.  Every  organism  becomes  what  it  is  through 
the  action  of  an  idea  or  purpose.  There  is  a  directing  principle 
at  work  in  the  seed  that  makes  it  impossible  for  the  seed  to 
become  anything  but  the  plant  or  animal  from  which  it  came. 
Since  forms  are  unchangeable,  species  are  immutable ;  the  species 
are  constant,  individuals  pass  away. 

If  all  this  is  so,  if  form  controls  matter,  which  is  potential 
form,  how  does  it  happen  that  nature  so  often  fails  of  its  mark; 
that  it  is  so  often  incomplete,  imperfect,  and  deformed?  Aris- 
totle lays  the  failures  in  nature  to  the  imperfection  of  matter: 
matter,  at  this  point,  is  no  longer  mere  possibility,  but  offers 
resistance  to  the  form,  has  power  of  its  own ;  to  its  recalcitrancy 
are  due  the  plurality  and  diversity  of  individuals  expressing  a 
type,  the  differences  existing  between  male  and  female,  as  well 
as  all  the  monstrosities  and  deformities  in  the  world. 

Motion  or  change  is  explained  as  the  union  of  form  and 
matter.  The  idea  or  form  is  what  causes  motion  in  matter ; 
the  idea  is  the  mover,  matter  the  thing  moved.  Motion  is  the 
realization  of  that  which  is  possible  as  such.  How  is  this  brought 
about?  By  the  mere  presence  of  the  idea;  matter  strives  to 
realize  the  form,  it  is  roused  to  action  by  the  presence  of  the 
form,  it  has  a  desire  for  the  form.  And  since  form  and  matter 
are  eternal,  motion  is  eternal.  Here  the  recalcitrant  matter 
exhibits  the  opposite  quality:  a  desire  to  move  in  the  direction 
of  the  purpose;  if  this  is  not  merely  figurative  language  on 
Aristotle 's  part,  we  have v  here  a  survival  of  the  old  Greek 
hylozoism. 


I 


ARISTOTLE  85 

Such  eternal  motion  on  the  part  of  matter  logically  presup- 
poses, according  to  our  jphilosopher,  an  eternal  unmoved  mover, 
something  that  caused  motion,  without  itself  moving.  For  if  it 
itself  moved,  it  would  have  to  be  moved  by  something  else  that 
moves,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum;  which  would  leave  motion  unex- 
plained. Somewhere,  motion  must  begin  without  being  caused 
by  something  that  moves.  Hence,  there  is  an  eternal  unmoved 
first  mover,  who  is  the  final  ground  of  all  vital  forces  in  nature. 
Since  this  first  cause  is  unmoved,  it  must  be  form  without  mat- 
ter, pure  form,  absolute  spirit,  for  where  there  is  matter,  there 
is  motion  and  change. 

The  first  cause  is  absolutely  perfect,  and  is  the  highest  purpose 
or  highest  good  of  the  world.  God  acts  on  the  world,  not  by 
moving  it,  but  as  a  beautiful  picture  or  an  ideal  acts  on  the 
soul.  All  beings  in  the  world,  plants,  animals,  men,  desire  the 
realization  of  their  essence  because  of  the  highest  good,  or  God ; 
his  existence  is  the  cause  of  their  desire.  Hence  God  is  the  uni- 
fying principle  of  the  world,  the  center  towards  which  all  things 
strive,  the  principle  which  accounts  for  all  order,  beauty,  and 
life  in  the  universe.  God's  activity  consists  in  thought,  in  the 
contemplation  of  the  essence  of  things,  in  the  vision  of  beau- 
tiful forms.  He  is  all  actuality;  every  possibility  is  realized  in 
him.  He  has  no  impressions,  no  sensations,  no  appetites,  no  will 
in  the  sense  of  desire,  no  feelings  in  the  sense  of  passions;  he 
is  pure  intelligence.  Our  intellect  is  discursive,  our  knowledge 
piecemeal,  moving  along  step  by  step;  God's  thinking  is  in- 
tuitive :  he  sees  all  things  at  once  and  sees  them  whole.  He  is 
free  from  pain  and  passion,  and  is  supremely  happy.  He  is 
everything  that  a  philosopher  longs  to  be. 

Aristotle's  physics,  the  science  of  bodies  and  motion,  is  char- 
acterized by  its  antagonism  to  the  mechanical-atomistic  view 
of  Democritus.  He  rejects  the  attempt  to  explain  . 

all  changes  in  the  corporeal  world  quantitatively, 
as  changes  in  the  local  relation  of  atoms.  Matter,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  he  tends  to  conceive  as  passive  and  inert,  and  in 
this  regard  he  agrees  with  Democritus,  although  he  sometimes 
endows  it  with  the  qualities  which  hylozoism  had  ascribed  to 
it.  Empty  space  is  denied  along  with  atoms;  and  space  is 
defined  as  the  limit  between  a  surrounded  and  a  surrounding 


86  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

body.  Whatever  is  not  bounded  by  another  body,  is  not  in 
space ;  thus  there  is  no  space  beyond  the  fixed  stars,  because  there 
is  no  body  to  limit  them.  Where  there  are  no  more  bodies,  space 
ceases  to  exist.  Hence,  there  can  be  no  infinite  space,  the  world 
is  finite;  and  it  does  not  move  as  a  whole,  but  only  its  parts 
suffer  change.  Since  space  cannot  be  conceived  without  motion 
and  God  does  not  move,  God  is  not  in  space. 

By  motion  (KivrjffiZ)  Aristotle  means  all  kinds  of  change; 
with  his  teleological  theory  in  mind,  he  defines  it  as  "  the 
realization  of  the  possible,"  and  enumerates  four  kinds  of  mo- 
tion: substantial  (origin  and  decay);  quantitative  (change  in 
the  size  of  a  body  by  addition  and  subtraction)  ;  qualitative 
(transformation  of  one  thing  into  another)  ;  and  local  (change 
of  place),  which  conditions  all  the  other  kinds  of  change.  The 
elements,  of  which  there  are  four  (sometimes  five),  according 
to  Aristotle,  can  be  transformed  into  one  another;  and  the  mix- 
ture of  substances  gives  rise  to  a  new  substance.  Qualities  are 
not  mere  subjective  effects  of  quantitative  changes,  as  the  Atom- 
ists  hold,  but  real  qualities  of  the  things  themselves.  Changes 
in  quality  cannot,  therefore,  be  explained  mechanically,  as  mere 
changes  in  the  local  arrangement  of  atoms;  there  is  an  absolute 
change  in  quality,  which  is  produced  by  forces  acting  on  matter. 

All  these  conceptions  are  directly  opposed  to  the  theories  of 
natural  science  as  they  had  been  worked  out  by  the  Atomists. 
The  difference  is  fundamental:  for  Aristotle  nature  cannot  be 
explained  mechanically;  it  is  dynamic  and  teleological;  it  is 
active  and  nothing  in  it  happens  without  purpose.  Convinced 
of  the  truth  of  his  metaphysical  presuppositions,  Aristotle  often 
settles  questions  in  science  by  declaring  certain  occurrences  to 
be  impossible,  because  inconceivable; — that  is,  inconceivable  on 
the  basis  of  his  metaphysics.  From  the  standpoint  of  mecha- 
nism, his  conception  represents  a  decidedly  backward  step  in  the 
progress  of  thought ;  but  there  are  many  natural  scientists  to-day 
who  would  subscribe  to  his  dynamic  or  "  energetic  "  interpre- 
tation of  nature,  and  not  a  few  who  would  accept  his  teleology. 

The  universe  is  eternal,  subject  neither  to  origin  nor  decay. 
The  earth  is  in  the  center;  around  it,  in  concentric  layers,  are 
water,  air,  fire;  then  come  the  celestial  spheres,  which  are  com- 
posed of  ether  and  some  of  which  carry  the  planets,  the  sun, 


XARISTOTLE  87 

and  the  moon;  then  the  fixed  stars.  In  order  to  explain  the 
motion  of  the  planets,  Aristotle  introduced  a  large  number  of 
counter-spheres  or  "  backward-moving  "  spheres.  God  encom- 
passes the  outermost  sphere  of  the  fixed  stars  and  causes  it  to 
move ;  by  the  motion  of  this  sphere  the  movements  of  the  other 
spheres  are  influenced.  This  idea,  however,  is  not  consistently 
carried  out  by  Aristotle,  each  sphere  also  being  supplied  with 
a  spirit  to  move  it. 

Aristotle  may  be  called  the  founder  of  systematic  and  com- 
parative zoology.  As  in  his  physics,  so  in  his  biology,  he  is 
opposed  to  the  purely  quantitative-mechanical- 
causal  conception  of  nature;  he  subordinates  it  to 
the  qualitative,  dynamic,  and  teleological  interpretation.  There 
are  forces  in  nature  which  initiate  and  direct  movements;  the 
form  fe  dynamic  and  purposive,  as  we  have  seen,  and  it  is  the 
soul  of  the  organic  body.  The  body  is  an  organon  or  instrument ; 
instruments  are  intended  for  use,  presuppose  a  user,  a  soul; 
the  soul  is  that  which  moves  the  body  and  fixes  its  structure ;  it 
is  the  principle  of  life  (vitalism).  Man  has  hands  because  he 
has  a  mind.  Body  and  soul  constitute  an  indivisible  unity,  but 
soul  is  the  controlling,  guiding  principle;  that  is,  the  whole  is 
prior  to  the  parts,  the  purpose  prior  to  its  realization ;  we  can- 
not understand  the  parts  without  the  whole. 

Wherever  there  is  life, — and  there  are  traces  of  life  all  through 
nature,  even  in  inorganic  nature, — there  is  soul.  Different 
grades  or  degrees  of  soul  exist,  corresponding  to  different  forms 
of  life.  No  soul  can  be  without  a  body,  and  no  soul  without 
a  specific  body:  a  human  soul  could  not  dwell  in  the  body  of 
a  horse.  The  organic  world  forms  an  ascending  scale  of  bodies, 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest;  and  a  graduated  series  of  souls, 
from  the  plant  soul,  which  governs  the  functions  of  nutrition, 
growth,  and  reproduction,  to  the  human  soul,  which  possesses 
additional  and  higher  powers. 

'Man  is  the  microcosm  and  the  final  goal  of  nature,  distin- 
guished from  all  other  living  beings  by  the  possession  of  reason 
(rov?).     The   soul   of   man  resembles   the   plant 
soul  in  that  it  controls  the  lower  vital  functions, 
and  the  animal  soul  in  the  possession  of  faculties  of  perception, 
the  so-called  common  sense,  imagination,  memory,  pleasure  and 


88  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

pain,  desire  and  aversion.  Sense-perception  is  a  change  pro- 
duced in  the  soul  by  things  perceived,  through  the  mediation 
of  the  sense-organs.  The  sense-organ  is,  potentially,  what  the 
perceived  object  is  actually.  The  different  senses  inform  the 
soul  of  the  qualities  of  things ;  the  common  sense,  whose  organ 
is  the  heart,  is  the  meeting-place,  as  it  were,  of  all  the  senses; 
by  means  of  it  we  combine  percepts  furnished  by  the  other 
senses  and  obtain  the  total  picture  of  an  object.  It  also  gives 
us  a  clear  picture  of  qualities, — such  as  number,  size,  shape, 
motion,  and  rest, — which  are  perceived  by  every  sense.  The 
common  sense  also  forms  generic  images,  composite  images,  and 
has  the  power  of  retention  or  memory  (associative  thinking). 
The  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain  are  referred  to  perception; 
pleasure  arises  when  functions  are  furthered,  pain  when  they 
are  impeded.  These  feelings  arouse  desire  and  aversion,  which 
alone  cause  the  body  to  move.  Desire  arises  only  on  the  pre- 
sentation of  a  desirable  object,  of  one  considered  by  the  soul 
as  a  good.  Desire  accompanied  by  deliberation  is  called  ra- 
tional will. 

The  human  soul  possesses,  besides  the  foregoing  functions, 
the  power  of  conceptual  thought,  the  faculty  of  thinking  the 
universal  and  necessary  essences  of  things;  as  the  soul  per- 
ceives sensible  objects  in  perception,  so,  as  reason  (rov$)t  it 
beholds  concepts.  Eeason  is,  potentially,  whatever  it  can  con- 
ceive or  think;  conceptual  thought  is  actualized  reason.  How 
does  reason  come  to  think  concepts?  There  is  active  or  creative 
reason  and  passive  reason.  Creative  reason  is  pure  actuality; 
in  it  concepts  are  realized,  it  sees  them  directly, — here  thought 
and  the  object  of  thought  are  one, — it  is  like  Plato's  pure  soul, 
which  contemplates  the  world  of  ideas.  In  passive  reason  con- 
cepts are  potential  (it  is  likened  to  Aristotle's  matter:  passive 
reason  is  the  matter  on  which  creative  reason,  the  form,  acts)  ; 
they  are  made  real  or  actual,  or  brought  out,  by  creative  reason. 
According  to  Aristotle 's  teaching,  nothing  can  ever  become  actual 
for  which  an  actual  cause  does  not  already  exist.  Thus,  for 
example,  a  complete  form  or  idea  exists  which  the  matter  of  a 
particular  organism  has  to  realize.  Similarly,  he  assumes  here, 
a  complete  form  must  exist  in  reason  for  reason  to  realize.  In 
order  to  carry  out  this  thought  in  the  mental  world,  he  distin- 


ARISTOTLE  89 

guishes  between  the  formal  and  material  phases  of  reason,  be- 
tween active  and  passive  reason,  actual  and  potential  reason: 
the  concepts  which  are  potential  in  passive  reason  are  actual 
in  creative  reason. 

Perception,  imagination,  and  memory  are  connected  with  the 
body  and  perish  with  it.  Passive  reason,  too,  contains  elements 
of  sensuous  images  and  is  perishable.  Such  images  are  the  occa- 
sion for  the  arousal  of  concepts  in  passive  reason,  but  these 
cannot  be  aroused  without  the  action  of  creative  reason.  Creative 
reason  existed  before  soul  and  body;  it  is  absolutely  immaterial, 
imperishable,  not  bound  to  a  body,  and  immortal.  It  is  a  spark 
of  the  divine  mind  coming  to  the  soul  from  without  (SvpaSer), 
as  Aristotle  says ;  it  does  not  arise  in  the  course  of  the  soul 's 
development,  as  do  the  other  psychic  functions.  Since  it  is  not 
an  individual  reason,  personal  immortality  is  evidently  out  of 
the  question.  Some  interpreters  of  Aristotle  identify  it  with 
universal  reason  or  the  mind  of  God. 

Aristotle's  metaphysics  and  psychology  form  the  basis  of  his 
theory  of  ethics,  which  is  the  first  comprehensive  scientific  theory 
presented  in  history.  The  question  to  be  answered  . 
by  it  is  the  Socratic  question  of  the  highest  good. 
All  human  action  has  some  end  in  view.  This  end  may  be  the 
means  to  a  higher  end,  this  to  a  still  higher,  and  so  on ;  but  finally 
we  must  reach  a  supreme  end  or  purpose,  an  ultimate  prin- 
ciple or  good,  for  the  sake  of  which  every  other  good  is  to  be 
sought.  What  is  this  highest  good?  The  goodness  of  a  thing 
consists  in  the  realization  of  its  specific  nature ;  the  end  or  pur- 
pose of  every  creature  is  to  realize  or  make  manifest  its  peculiar 
essence,  that  which  distinguishes  it  from  every  other  creature. 
This  for  man  is  not  mere  bodily  existence  or  mere  sensuous  feel- 
ing, the  exercise  of  vegetable  and  animal  functions,  but  a  life 
of  reason.  Hence,  the  highest  good  for  man  is  the  complete 
and  habitual  exercise  of  the  functions  which  make  him  a  human 
being.  This  is  what  Aristotle  means  by  the  term  eudsemonia 
(evdaijtovia),  which  has  been  translated  by  our  word  happiness, 
to  which  no  objection  need  be  raised  if  it  is  not  taken  as  pleas- 
ure. Pleasure,  according  to  Aristotle,  accompanies  virtuous 
activity  as  a  secondary  effect  and  is  thus  included  in  the  highest 
good,  but  not  identical  with  it. 


90  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

The  soul,  however,  is  not  all  reason,  it  has  an  irrational  as 
well  as  a  rational  part:  feelings,  desires,  appetites.  With  these 
reason  should  cooperate;  in  order  to  realize  its  purpose,  the 
different  parts  of  the  soul  must  act  in  the  right  way  and  the 
body  must  function  properly,  and  there  must  be  adequate  eco- 
nomic goods.  (Neither  a  slave  nor  a  child  can  attain  the  ethical 
goal;  and  poverty,  sickness,  and  misfortune  stand  in  its  way.) 
A  virtuous  soul  is  a  well-ordered  soul,  one  in  which  the  right 
relation  exists  between  reason,  feeling,  and  desire.  The  perfect 
action  of  reason  as  such  is  intellectual  (dianoetical)  efficiency 
or  virtue  (wisdom,  insight)  ;  the  perfect  action  of  the  emotional- 
impulsive  function  is  called  ethical  virtue  (temperance,  courage, 
liberality,  etc.).  There  will  be  as  many  moral  virtues  as  there 
are  spheres  of  action.  We  must  assume  a  rational  attitude  to- 
ward bodily  appetites,  toward  fear,  danger,  anger,  the  desire 
for  economic  goods,  fame,  and  so  on. 

The  question  arises,  In  what  does  this  attitude  consist?  In 
keeping  the  mean  between  two  extremes  (the  doctrine  of  the 
golden  mean  *),  we  are  told.  Courage,  for  example,  is  a  mean 
between  foolhardiness  and  cowardice;  liberality,  between  ex- 
travagance and  avarice;  modesty,  between  bashfulness  and 
shamelessness.  This  mean  is  not  the  same  for  every  individual 
and  under  all  circumstances,  it  is  "  relative  to  ourselves,"  and 
it  is  "  determined  by  reason,  or  as  a  right-minded  man  would 
determine  it. "  It  is  not,  however,  a  matter  of  subjective  opinion 
or  arbitrary  choice;  what  moral  conduct  is,  is  decided  by  the 
right-minded  man:  the  virtuous  man  is  the  standard  and  meas- 
ure of  things;  he  judges  everything  correctly,  and  the  truth  is 
manifest  to  him  in  every  case.  Two  other  points  are  to  be 
remembered:  Moral  conduct  implies  a  disposition  (e£t$)  or  a 
habit  of  the  will;  it  is  an  expression  of  character:  one  swallow 
does  not  make  a  spring.  Moreover,  it  is  voluntary  action, 
consciously  purposive  action,  freely  chosen  action :  ' '  virtue, 
as  well  as  the  evil,  lies  in  our  power."  Aristotle  includes 
all  these  ideas  in  the  following  definition:  "  Virtue  is  a  dis- 
position, or  habit,  involving  deliberate  purpose  or  choice, 
consisting  in  a  mean  that  is  relative  to  ourselves,  the  mean 

*  This  principle  is  frequently  abandoned  by  Aristotle  in  his  discussions, 
inapplicable  in  many  cases. 


ARISTOTLE  91 

being  determined  by  reason,  or  as  a  prudent  man  would  deter- 
mine it." 

The  highest  good  for  man,  then,  is  self-realization.  This 
teaching,  however,  is  not  to  be  interpreted  as  a  selfish  indi- 
vidualism. A  man  realizes  his  true  self  when  he  loves  and  grati- 
fies the  supreme  part  of  his  being,  that  is,  the  rational  part, 
when  he  is  moved  by  a  motive  of  nobleness,  when  he  promotes 
the  interests  of  others  and  serves  his  country.  One  has  but 
to  read  Aristotle 's  books  on  friendship  and  justice  in  his  Ethics 
in  order  to  appreciate  the  exalted  altruistic  spirit  of  his  teach- 
ing. "  The  virtuous  man  will  act  often  in  the  interest  of  his 
friends  and  of  his  country,  and,  if  need  be,  will  even  die  for 
them.  He  will  surrender  money,  honor,  and  all  the  goods  for 
which  the  world  contends,  reserving  only  nobleness  for  him- 
self, as  he  would  rather  enjoy  an  intense  pleasure  for  a  short 
time  than  a  moderate  pleasure  long,  and  would  rather  live  one 
year  nobly  than  many  years  indifferently,  and  would  rather  per- 
form one  noble  and  lofty  action  than  many  poor  actions.  This 
is  true  of  one  who  lays  down  his  life  for  another;  he  chooses 
great  nobleness  for  his  own."  The  virtuous  man  is  a  lover  of 
self  in  the  sense  that  he  assigns  to  himself  a  preponderant  share 
of  noble  conduct.  Man  is  a  social  being  and  disposed  to  live 
with  others;  he  needs  somebody  to  do  good  to.  "  A  virtuous 
friend  is  naturally  desirable  to  a  virtuous  man,  for  that  which 
is  naturally  good  is  good  and  pleasant  in  itself  to  the  virtuous 
man;"  that  is,  loving  goodness  for  its  own  sake,  he  is  bound 
to  love  a  virtuous  friend;  in  this  sense,  his  friend  is  a  second 
self  (an  alter  ego)  to  the  virtuous  man. 

Justice  is  a  virtue  implying  a  relation  to  others,  for  it  pro- 
motes the  interests  of  somebody  else,  whether  he  be  a  ruler  or 
a  simple  fellow-citizen.  Justice  is  taken  in  two  senses,  lawful- 
ness and  fairness.  Laws  pronounce  upon  all  subjects  with  a 
view  to  the  interest  of  the  community  as  a  whole,  or  of  those 
who  are  its  best  or  leading  citizens  whether  in  virtue  or  in  any 
similar  sense.  That  is,  all  the  virtues  are  here  included  in  the 
notion  of  justice,  only  that  in  this  case  they  are  regarded  from 
the  standpoint  of  the  general  welfare.  The  term  justice  is  also 
used  in  the  more  usual  sense  of  giving  each  man  his  due  (dis- 
tributive justice). 


92  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

Nor  is  the  theory  to  be  taken  in  the  hedonistic  sense,  as  a 
pleasure-theory.  Pleasure  is  the  necessary  and  immediate  con- 
sequent of  virtuous  activity,  but  not  the  end  of  life.  Pleasure 
is  the  completion  of  activity:  it  is  something  added,  just  as 
youthful  beauty  is  added  to  youthful  power.  It  is  a  con- 
comitant of  action,  and  "  the  activity  will  be  pleasantest  when 
it  is  most  perfect,  and  it  will  be  most  perfect  when  it  is  the 
activity  of  the  part  being  in  sound  condition  and  acting  upon  the 
most  excellent  of  the  objects  that  fall  within  its  domain."  It  is 
reasonable  to  aim  at  pleasure,  as  it  perfects  life  in  each  of  us, 
and  life  is  an  object  of  desire.  Pleasure  and  life  are  yoked 
together  and  do  not  admit  of  separation,  as  pleasure  is  impos- 
sible without  activity  and  every  activity  is  perfected  by  pleas- 
ure. Besides,  according  to  Aristotle,  it  is  the  things  which  are 
honorable  and  pleasant  to  the  virtuous  man  which  are  really 
honorable  and  pleasant.  If  people  who  have  never  tasted  a  pure 
and  liberal  pleasure  have  recourse  to  the  pleasures  of  the  body, 
it  must  not  be  inferred  that  .these  pleasures  are  prefer- 
able. 

The  highest  happiness  is  the  activity  of  the  best  part  of  our 
nature, — speculative  activity,  an 'activity  which  takes  the  form 
of  contemplation.  This  is  the  highest,  the  most  continuous,  the 
most  pleasant,  in  the  highest  degree  self-sufficient,  and  loved  for 
its  own  sake.  Such  a  life  may  seem  too  good  for  a  man.  He 
will  enjoy  such  a  life  not  in  virtue  of  his  humanity,  but  in  virtue 
of  some  divine  element  in  him.  "  If  then  the  reason  is  divine 
in  comparison  with  the  rest  of  man's  nature,  the  life  which 
accords  with  reason  will  be  divine  in  comparison  with  human 
life  in  general.  Nor  is  it  right  to  follow  the  advice  of  people 
who  say  that  the  thoughts  of  men  should  not  be  too  high  for 
humanity  or  the  thoughts  of  humanity  too  high  for  mortality; 
for  a  man,  as  far  as  in  him  lies,  should  seek  immortality  and 
do  all  that  is  in  his  power  to  live  in  accordance  with  the  highest 
part  of  his  nature."  * 

It  is  not  enough  to  know  the  nature  of  virtue;  we  should 

endeavor  to  possess  and  exercise  it.    Theories  are  strong  enough 

to  stimulate  youths  already  liberally  minded,  but  they  cannot 

inspire  the  mass  of  men  to  chivalrous  action.    It  is  difficult  for 

•Translations  by  Welldon. 


ARISTOTLE  93 

one  to  receive  from  his  early  days  a  right  inclination  to  virtue 
unless  he  is  brought  up  under  virtuous  laws.  We  also  need  laws 
to  teach  us  all  the  duty  of  life  when  we  have  come  to  man's 
estate,  for  most  people  are  moved  by  necessity  and  fear  of  pun- 
ishment rather  than  by  reason  and  the  love  of  nobleness.  The 
State  should  undertake  the  nurture  and  the  pursuits  of  its  citi- 
zens. At  any  rate,  whoever  wishes  to  elevate  the  people  should 
try  to  learn  the  principles  of  legislation.  In  order,  therefore, 
that  the  philosophy  of  human  life  be  made  as  complete  as  pos- 
sible, Aristotle  proceeds  to  examine  the  subject  of  politics,  to 
which  we  now  turn. 

Man  is  a  social  being  (Zwov  Ttokinuor},  who  can  realize  his 
true  self  only  in  society  and  the  State.  Families  and  village  com- 
munities are  prior  to  the  State  in  time,  but  the  . 
State  is  the  goal  of  the  evolution  of  human  life, 
and,  as  such,  prior  and  superior  to  them  and  the  individual 
by  nature,  on  the  Aristotelian  principle  that  the  whole  is  prior 
to  its  parts.  That  is,  social  life  is  the  goal  or  end  of  human 
existence.  The  aim  of  the  State,  however,  is  to  produce  good 
citizens.  We  have  here  a  reconciliation  of  the  view  that  the 
individual  is  the  end  of  life  and  the  view  that  society  is  the  end. 
Society  is  composed  of  individuals,  and  the  purpose  of  society 
is  to  enable  the  individual  citizens  to  live  a  virtuous  and  happy 
life. 

The  constitution  of  the  State  must  be  adapted  to  the  char- 
acter and  requirements  of  a  people.  It  is  just  when  it  confers 
equal  rights  on  the  people  in  so  far  as  they  are  equal,  and  un- 
equal rights  in  so  far  as  they  are  unequal.  Citizens  differ  in 
personal  capability,  in  property  qualifications,  in  birth,  and 
freedom,  and  justice  demands  that  they  be  treated  according  to 
these  differences. 

There  are  good  constitutions  and  bad  ones ;  the  monarchy,  the 
aristocracy,  and  the  polity  (a  form  in  which  the  citizens  are 
nearly  equal)  being  good  forms,  and  the  tyranny,  oligarchy,  and 
democracy  bad.  As  the  best  State  for  his  own  time,  Aristotle 
regards  a  city-state  in  which  only  those  are  to  be  citizens  whose 
position  in  life  and  education  qualify  them  for  government,  that 
is,  an  aristocracy.  He  justifies  slavery  on  the  ground  that  it  uj 
a  natural  institution ;  it  is  just  that  foreigners, — and  they  alom 


94  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

composed  the  slave-class  in  Greece, — being  inferior  to  the  Greeks, 
should  not  enjoy  the  same  rights  as  Greeks. 

The  philosophy  of  Aristotle  was  continued  by  his  pupils,  many  of 
whom  showed  independence  of  thought.  Theophrastus  (+287  B.C.), 

his  successor  as  the  head  of  the  school,  wrote  a  work 
Peripatetic  on  botany  and  a  history  of  the  doctrines  of  the  "  physi- 
School  cists."  Eudemus  is  known  by  his  history  of  mathematics 

and  astronomy ;  Aristoxenus,  by  his  studies  in  the  theory 
of  music;  Dicaearchus,  by  his  geography  and  politics;  Strato  (suc- 
cessor of  Theophrastus  in  the  school,  from  287-269  B.C.)  devotes  himself 
to  the  philosophy  of  nature.  After  Lyco,  who  succeeded  Strato 
(269-225)  in  the  headship,  the  Peripatetic  School  lost  its  importance, 
and  the  writings  of  the  master  were  neglected.  In  the  first  century  B.C., 
the  school  turned  its  attention  to  text-criticism  and  interpretation,  a 
work  which  was  begun  by  Tyrannic  and  Andronicus  of  Rhodes,  and 
carried  on  for  many  centuries.  To  this  movement  we  owe  the  preserva- 
tion and  transmission  of  the  Aristotelian  writings. 


ETHICAL  MOVEMENT 

11.    THE  OUTLOOK 

The  vital  question  for  Socrates  had  been  the  practical  prob- 
lem :  he  conceived  it  as  his  mission  to  set  his  age  right  in  matters 
of  morals  as  well  as  in  matters  of  truth.  His  interest  in  the 
problem  of  knowledge  was  connected  with  his  conviction  that 
clear  thinking  is  essential  to  right  action,  and  that  it  is  pos- 
sible to  discover  practical  principles  which  will  appeal  to  all 
reasonable  men.  With  the  Socratic  schools,  too,  ethical  ques- 
tions were  uppermost,  although  the  Megarians  also  showed  a 
fondness  for  dialectical  discussions ;  and  Plato 's  earlier  writings 
breathe  the  ethical  spirit  of  his  master.  Even  in  his  developed 
system,  the  founder  of  the  Academy  never  lost  sight  of  the 
highest  good;  his  entire  philosophy  constituted  a  rational  basis 
for  his  ethical  idealism.  It  is  true  that  Aristotle  exalted  theo- 
retical activity  in  his  conception  of  God,  but  he,  too,  regarded 
the  ethical  personality  as  the  noblest  goal  of  the  universe.  After 
the  death  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  their  schools  for  the  most  part 
adhered  to  the  teachings  of  the  founders  and  made  little  prog- 
ress in  the  development  of  thought ;  they  were  feeding  upon  the 


THE  OUTLOOK  95 

intellectual  legacy  which  had  been  bequeathed  to  them.  The 
Cyrenaics  and  the  Cynics  were  preaching  their  opposing  ethical 
doctrines  of  hedonism  and  asceticism  as  before;  and,  influenced 
by  the  Cynic  Diogenes  of  Sinope,  the  Megarian  Stilpo  turned 
his  attention  to  ethical  problems. 

The  social  conditions  which  had  assisted  in  the  birth  of  the 
Socratic  movement  did  not  disappear  with  the  death  of  its 
pioneer.  The  general  moral  tone  of  the  times  did  not  improve, 
the  pursuit  of  enjoyment  and  gain  was  not  checked,  faith  in 
the  popular  religion  not  strengthened.  The  long  and  frequent 
wars  between  the  Grecian  city-states  broke  the  power  of  one 
after  the  other,  and  left  Hellas  an  easy  prey  to  the  Macedonian 
conqueror.  The  Peloponnesian  war  (431-404  B.C.)  ended  in  the 
complete  overthrow  of  the  political  hegemony  of  Athens;  the 
Corinthian  war  (395-387)  broke  Corinth;  the  Theban  war  (379- 
362)  brought  Sparta  to  defeat.  After  a  long  and  stubborn 
struggle,  Philip  of  Macedon  defeated  the  allied  Athenians  and 
Thebans  at  the  battle  of  Chseronea  (338)  and  became  the  master 
of  Greece.  Alexander  the  Great  conquered  the  Persians,  and 
his  generals  divided  a  large  part  of  the  world  between  them 
after  his  death  (323).  From  the  hands  of  Macedonia  the  Greek 
was  delivered  into  the  hands  of  a  new  world-power:  in  146  B.C. 
Greece  becomes  a  Roman  province. 

Under  the  conditions  we  have  been  describing,  it  was  only 
natural  that  the  ethical  question  should  again  become  paramount 
in  many  thoughtful  minds.  In  times  like  these,  in  the  midst 
of  the  breakdown  of  the  old  institutions  and  the  general  de- 
moralization of  public  and  private  life,  the  problem  of  the  mean- 
ing of  life  would  not  down.  When  the  State  lost  its  independ- 
ence and  civic  duty  degenerated  into  mere  compliance,  the  ques- 
tion forced  itself  upon  the  intelligent  individual  how  he  might 
save  himself.  How  shall  the  weary  soul  find  rest?  This  is  the 
old  and  ever  new  problem  which  conscious  human  beings  put 
to  themselves  when  life  becomes  too  complex  and  difficult  for 
them,  and  they  are  confronted  with  the  danger  of  being  lost  in 
the  struggle.  It  is  the  problem  of  value,  the  problem  of  the  high- 
est good :  What  is  the  thing  of  most  worth  in  the  world ;  how  shall 
a  man  shape  his  life,  what  is  there  left  for  him  to  strive  for? 
Different  answers  were  given  to  the  question  by  different  groups 


96  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

of  thinkers,  then  as  now.  According  to  one  school  (the  Epicu- 
reans), the  highest  good  or  ideal  is  pleasure  or  happiness 
(hedonism)  :  this  is  the  only  goal  worth  while.  Everything  else 
has  value  only  in  so  far  as  it  brings  pleasure,  only  in  so  far 
as  it  is  a  means  to  happiness.  In  the  storm  and  stress  of  exist- 
ence, it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  keep  the  mind  unruffled  and 
to  move  through  the  world  with  the  greatest  possible  advantage 
to  oneself.  According  to  another  school  (the  Stoics),  the  thing 
of  most  worth  is  not  happiness,  but  character,  virtue,  self- 
discipline,  duty,  the  subordination  of  particular  interests  to  uni- 
versal ends. 

The  teachings  of  both  schools  were  presented  in  more  popular 
form  and  appealed  to  wider  circles  than  the  great  systems  of 
Plato  and  Aristotle.  And  yet  both  of  them  saw  the  need  of 
offering  a  rational  basis  for  their  ethical  conceptions,  of  justify- 
ing them  to  reason,  of  proving  them.  They  believed  that  the 
moral  question  could  not  find  a  satisfactory  answer  without  a 
knowledge  of  the  very  nature  of  things:  unless  we  know  the 
meaning  of  the  world,  we  cannot  tell  how  man  ought  to  act 
in  the  world.  His  conduct  will  depend  on  the  kind  of  universe 
he  is  living  in;  his  theory  of  life  will  be  determined  by  his 
theory  of  the  world,  his  ethics  by  his  metaphysics.  With  all  their 
insistence  on  the  practical,  these  schools  never  lost  the  Greek 
love  of  speculation. 

In  order  to  realize  the  highest  good,  then,  it  is  necessary  to 
have  knowledge  of  the  meaning  of  the  universe,  to  know  the 
truth.  The  question,  however,  arises,  What  is  truth?  What  is 
the  criterion  of  truth;  and  what  is  its  origin?  How  can  we 
know  that  we  have  the  truth?  Logic  answers  these  questions 
for  us ;  it  furnishes  us  with  a  standard  or  criterion  of  knowledge, 
and  enables  us  to  distinguish  truth  from  error.  The  Epicureans 
and  Stoics,  therefore,  both  grounded  their  philosophy  of  life  on 
logic  and  metaphysics. 

The  Epicureans  based  their  conception  of  the  good  on  the 
mechanical  materialism  of  Democritus,  according  to  which  the 
universe  is  the  result  of  the  interaction  of  countless  material 
atoms,  without  purpose  or  intelligence  to  guide  them.  Man  is 
one  of  the  many  combinations  of  jostling  particles  of  matter, 
formed,  in  the  ever-changing  flow  of  existence,  after  many  trials 


EPICUREANISM  97 

and  failures;  he  will  last  his  little  day,  only  to  be  scattered 
again  into  the  great  atomic  whirl  whence  he  came.  Hence,  while 
he  lives,  let  him  live  untroubled  by  superstitious  fears  of  the 
here  and  the  hereafter;  let  him  enjoy  the  few  short  moments 
of  life  as  best  he  may,  conducting  himself  so  as  to  get  as  much 
happiness  out  of  the  game  as  it  will  yield.  The  Stoic  philoso- 
phers, on  the  other  hand,  regarded  the  universe  as  held  together 
and  ruled  by  an  intelligent  principle  or  purpose,  as  a  beautiful, 
good,  and  well-ordered  cosmos.  They  saw  unity  and  harmony 
in  it;  for  them  it  is  a  living  God.  Since  man  is  a  part  of  this 
great  rational  whole,  it  is  his  duty  to  play  his  part  as  a  part, 
to  subordinate  himself  to  the  universal  harmony,  to  subject  his 
will  to  law  and  reason,  to  help  realize  the  will  of  God.  And  all 
this  he  should  do,  not  for  the  sake  of  his  own  narrow  personal 
advantage,  not  for  the  sake  of  pleasure,  but  for  the  sake  of  the 
perfection  of  the  whole.  There  was  no  happiness  possible  for 
the  Stoic  except  that  which  he  could  obtain  through  obedience 
to  the  reason  or  law  of  the  universe. 


12.   EPICUREANISM 

The  thinker  with  whose  name  hedonistic  ethics  became  most 
intimately  linked  in  antiquity  was  Epicurus.  His  metaphysical 
theory  is  almost  entirely  reproduced  from  the  system  of  Democ- 
ritus,  which  we  have  already  studied.  The  essential  features  of 
his  ethical  doctrine  had  also  been  anticipated  by  Democritus, 
as  well  as  by  the  Cyrenaic  school. 

Epicurus  was  born  on  the  island  of  Samos,  341  B.C.,  of  Athenian 
parents.    Through  his  teacher  Nausiphanes  he  became  acquainted  with 
the  writings  of  Democritus  and  with  the  skeptical  doc- 
trines of  Pyrrho.    After  teaching  in  various  Greek  cities,    Epicurus 
he  founded  a  school  at  Athens   (306),  where  he  lived 
quietly  until  his  death   (270),  surrounded  by  an  admiring  group  of 
pupils  and  friends,  among  whom  were  many  women.     No  philosopher, 
perhaps,  has  been  more  unjustly  reviled  and  misunderstood  than  this 
amiable  and  cheerful  man  whose  very  name  has  become  a  term  of 
reproach. 

Epicurus  was  a  fertile  writer,  who  published  many  works  (one  On 
Nature,  consisting  of  thirty-seven  books),  only  fragments  of  which 
remain.  He  summarized  his  system  in  forty-four  propositions  (a  kind 
of  catechism),  the  nvpiai  66^ai,  the  gist  of  which  is  given  in  Book  X  of 
the  Opinions  of  Diogenes  Laertius.  His  successors  made  very  little 


98  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

change  in  the  system,  their  work  consisting  largely  in  reproducing  his 
thought.  His  philosophy  began  to  win  many  converts  from  the  first 
century  B.C.  on.  The  most  famous  of  his  followers  was  the  Roman 
poet  Lucretius  (94-54),  who  gave  an  exposition  of  the  materialistic 
philosophy  in  his  poem,  On  the  Nature  of  Things  (De  rerum  natura), 
and  made  it  popular  with  many  poets  and  literary  men  of  the  Augustan 
age.* 

Of  the  writings  we  possess  three  letters  (two  of  which  are  held 
to  be  authentic),  the  xtopuu  66t;ai  (which  at  least  reproduce  Epicurus's 
thought),  and  fragments.  The  Herculanean  fragments  are  largely 
from  his  work  On  Nature.  Collection  of  fragments  in  Usener's  Epicurea, 
1887,  as  well  as  in  the  general  collections  already  mentioned. 

W.  Wallace,  Epicureanism;  R.  D.  Hicks,  Stoic  and  Epicurean; 
A.  E.  Taylor,  Epicurus;  Pater,  Marius  the  Epicurean,  2  vols.,  1910; 
Joyau,  Epicure;  works  on  Epicurus's  ethics  by  Guyau  and  P.  von 
Gizicki.  Good  bibliography  in  Hicks. 

The  object  of  philosophy,  according  to  Epicurus,  is  to  enable 
man  to  lead  a  happy  life.  Sciences  that  have  no  practical  value, 
that  do  not  help  us  to  realize  this  purpose,  like 
music,  geometry,  arithmetic,  and  astronomy,  are 
useless.  A  certain  knowledge  of  logic  is  necessary,  enough  to 
furnish  us  with  a  criterion  of  knowledge.  We  need  to  know 
physics,  or  a  theory  of  the  universe  (metaphysics),  in  order  to 
understand  the  natural  causes  of  things.  Such  knowledge  is 
useful,  since  it  frees  us  from  the  fear  of  gods,  natural  phe- 
nomena, and  death.  The  knowledge  of  human  nature  will  teach 
us  what  to  desire  and  what  to  avoid.  The  main  thing,  however, 
is  that  we  understand  that  all  things  are  produced  by  natural 
and  not  by  supernatural  causes.  We  may,  therefore,  divide  phi- 
losophy into  logic  (Canonic),  metaphysics,  and  ethics. 

The  problem  here  is  to  show  how  our  propositions  should  be 
constituted  in  order  to  be  true.i  What  is  the  test  (the  Canonic, 
as  Epicurus  called  it  in  his  work  entitled  Canon} 
or  criterion  of  their  truth  ?  They  must  all  be  based 
on  sense-perception  j  what  we  hear  and  see  and  smell  and  taste 
is  real,  "  just  as  real,  just  as  evident  as  pain."  Unless  we  trust 
our  sensations,  we  can  have  no  knowledge  at  all.  Illusions  are 
not  illusions  of  the  senses,  but  of  judgment:  sensations  or  the 
copies  of  objects  are  falsely  interpreted  or  referred  to  the  wrong 
objects,  owing  to  many  causes,  such  as  differences  in  sense- 
organs,  changes  in  the  copies  on  their  way  to  the  organ.  Mis- 
1  *Transl.  by  Munro.  See  Santayana,  Three  Philosophical  Poets. 


EPICUREANISM  99 

takes,  however,  can  be  corrected  by  repeating  the  observation 
and  appealing  to  the  experiences  of  others. 

General  ideas  or  images  have  the  same  certainty  as  the  sen- 
sations on  which  they  depend.  There  are,  however,  no  abstract 
qualities  corresponding  to  such  ideas,  no  independent  essences 
(as  Plato  and  Aristotle  taught)  ;  the  only  reals  corresponding 
to  an  idea  are  the  particular  concrete  objects  of  the  class,  for 
which  the  general  idea  is  a  mark. 

In  addition  to  sensations  and  ideas,  we  also  form  opinions 
and  hypotheses.  In  order  to  be  true,  these  must  be  confirmed 
or  verified  by  sense-perceptions,  or  at  least  not  contradicted  by 
them.  Thus,  our  theory  of  atoms  is  an  hypothesis;  no  one  has 
ever  seen  an  atom,  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  any  one  will 
ever  see  one.  But  we  form  an  idea  of  the  atom  in  analogy  with 
our  common  experiences,  and  assign  to  it  only  such  qualities 
as  our  sense-perception  reveals  in  connection  with  larger 
bodies. 

In  the  theoretical  field,  then,  sensation  is  the  criterion  of 
truth;  we  know  what  we  perceive;  and  we  imagine,  and  have 
a  right  to  imagine,  that  the  things  we  do  not  perceive  are  like 
the  things  which  we  do  perceive.  Epicurus  rests  his  entire 
proof  of  the  trustworthiness  of  sensations  on  the  Democritean 
theory  of  sense-perception.  What  is  directly  perceived  is  not 
the  objects  themselves,  but  copies  of  them,  which  are  detached 
from  objects  and  influence  the  sense-organ.  Hence,  his  theory 
of  truth  stands  and  falls  with  the  assumed  theory  of  sensation. 
In  the  practical  field,  pleasure-pain  is  the  criterion.  Only  what 
causes  pleasure  is  good;  only  what  causes  pain  is  bad.  Here, 
too,  illusion  is  due  to  false  judgments  concerning  these  feelings, 
and  can  be  avoided. 

Now,  our  senses  show  us  nothing  but  material  bodies,  hence 
bodies  alone  are  real.  But  if  bodies  alone  existed,  there  would 

be  nothing  in  which  they  could  be  contained  or 

,  ?  Metaphysics 

across  which  they  could  move;  hence  there  must 

be  empty  space,  "  intangible  nature,"  or  non-being.  Since 
nothing  can  be  absolutely  created  or  destroyed,  the  origin, 
growth,  change,  and  disappearance  of  bodies  can  only  be  ex- 
plained as  the  combination  and  separation  of  elements.  These 
elements  are  exceedingly  small  particles  of  matter,  impercep- 


100  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

tible,  physically  indivisible,  indestructible,  and  unchangeable, 
(They  are  not  infinitely  divisible,  or  infinitely  small  in  the 
mathematical  sense;  if  they  were,  everything  would  be  reduced 
to  nothing.)  They  exist  by  their  own  force,  as  Epicurus  says, 
and  are  absolutely  full,  i.e.,  there  are  no  empty  spaces  in  them; 
they  are  absolutely  hard  and  impenetrable,  they  cannot  be  broken 
or  cut  (hence  called  atoms).  Besides  these  qualities,  atoms 
have  size,  shape,  and  weight,  in  which  they  differ,  one  from 
another,  and  are  in  a  continual  state  of  motion.  Differences 
in  bodies  are  explained  by  differences  in  the  size,  shape,  weight, 
and  relation  of  atoms.  The  number  of  shapes,  however,  is 
limited,  according  to  Epicurus.  Since  there  is  an  infinite  number 
of  atoms,  there  must  be  an  infinite  space  to  hold  them,  i.e.,  an 
infinite  universe. 

On  account  of  their  weight,  atoms  move  downward  in  per- 
pendicular lines,  at  equal  rates  of  speed.  But  if  they  simply 
moved  downward  in  this  way,  we  should  have  nothing  but  a 
constant  rain  of  atoms  and  no  world.  We  must,  therefore, 
imagine  that  they  have  the  power  to  swerve  just  the  least  bit 
from  the  perpendicular,  "  just  as  all  living  creatures  have  the 
power  to  go  forward  whither  the  will  leads  each,"  as  Lucretius 
puts  it.  That  is,  Epicurus  endows  his  atoms  with  spontaneity, 
partly  in  order  to  explain  the  existing  world,  partly  to  make 
possible  free  will  in  man:  without  such  power  of  free  action 
in  atoms,  freedom  would  be  impossible  in  us,  since  nothing  comes 
from  nothing;  and  the  notion  of  freedom  is  less  disturbing  to 
man's  peace  of  mind  than  blind  fate  or  inexorable  necessity. 

Living  beings,  too,  are  explained  by  the  same  principles; 
originally  they  arose  from  the  earth.  At  first  monsters  were 
produced,  shapes  not  adapted  to  their  surroundings,  but  these 
could  not  live.  The  heavenly  bodies  are  accounted  for  in  the 
same  natural  way;  they  are  not  the  creations  of  gods.  Nor  are 
they  endowed  with  souls,  for  such  cannot  exist  outside  of  living 
forms. 

There  are  gods,  but  not  as  the  people  conceive  them  in  their 
fear  and  ignorance.  That  they  exist  is  proved  by  the  common 
belief  in  them, — it  is  a  natural  idea, — and  by  the  necessity  of 
assuming  a  cause  for  this  idea  in  us.  But  the  gods  did  not 
create  this  world:  why  should  supremely  happy  beings  make 


EPICUREANISM  101 

a  world?  Besides,  whence  could  they  have  derived  the  idea 
of  such  a  world?  Finally,  how  could  such  perfect  beings  make 
so  imperfect  a  world?  The  gods  have  the  shapes  of  men,  only 
they  are  more  beautiful;  their  bodies  are  fine  bodies  of  light; 
they  live  in  the  intermundia.  They  differ  in  sex,  require  food, 
and  even  speak  the  Greek  language.  They  do  not  care  for  men 
or  interfere  with  the  course  of  the  world,  but  live  peaceful, 
blessed  lives,  free  from  care  and  trouble. 

The  soul  is  material  like  all  other  things;  otherwise  it  could 
do  nothing  and  suffer  nothing.  It  is  composed  of  extremely 
fine,  minute,  round,  and,  therefore,  nimble,  atoms;  p  ,  , 
of  fire,  air,  breath,  and  a  still  more  refined  and 
mobile  matter,  which  is  the  very  soul  of  soul.  It  is  diffused 
over  the  whole  body ;  whatever  sensation  ,the  latter  has.  it  owes 
entirely  to  the  presence  of  the  soul.  Tliore  is  a  directing  or 
rational  part,  which  is  seated  in  the  breast  (emotions,  fear,  joy), 
and  whose  will  and  inclination  the  rest  of  the  soul  obeys.  The 
soul  is  mortal;  when  the  body  is  dissolved,  the  soul  is  dissolved 
into  its  elements  and  loses  its  powers.  When  we  are  convinced 
that  consciousness  ceases  with  death,  death  loses  its  terrors  for 
us ;  there  is  nothing  to  fear  of  a  life  to  come,  for  death  ends  all. 
Lucretius  says :  ' '  A  fool  will  not  make  more  out  of  the  hereafter 
than  he  has  made  of  this  life." 

Sense-perception  is  explained,  with  Democritus,  by  idols  or 
images  or  thin  film-like  forms,  which  emanate  from  the  objects 
around  us  and  influence  the  sense-organs.  Illusions,  hallucina- 
tions, dreams,  and  similar  states  are  produced  by  images  of 
objects  which  no  longer  exist,  or  by  images  which  adhere  to 
one  another,  or  in  other  perfectly  natural  ways.  Will  is  ex- 
plained thus:  an  image  (of  walking)  presents  itself  to  the  mind 
(the  rational  part)  ;  when  the  mind  wills  (to  walk),  it  strikes 
the  force  of  the  soul  which  is  spread  over  the  whole  body;  the 
soul  strikes  the  body,  and  the  body  moves. 

Man's  nature  is  bent  upon  pleasure;  yes,  all  animals  from 
the  moment  of  their  birth  seek  pleasure  and  avoid  pain  by  a 
natural  instinct.     Pleasure,  therefore,  is  the  goal 
at  which  we  all  aim,  and,  indeed,  ought  to  aim: 
happiness  is  the  highest  good.    Every  pleasure,  as  such,  is  good, 
every  pain  bad.    But  we  should  exercise  prudence  in  the  choice 


102  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

of  our  pleasures.  If  one  pleasure  lasted  as  long  as  another  and 
were  just  as  intense,  one  would  be  just  as  good  as  another. 
If  the  things  which  give  the  debauched  men  pleasure  could  give 
them  peace,  we  should  not  blame  them.  But  this  is  not  the 
case.  Not  every  pleasure  is  worthy  of  being  chosen,  not  every 
pain  ought  to  be  avoided.  Some  pleasures  are  followed  by  pains 
or  by  loss  of  pleasures;  many  pains  are  followed  by  pleasures, 
and  are,  therefore,  better  than  some  pleasures.  Moreover, 
pleasures  differ  in  intensity.  Mental  pleasures  are  greater  than 
the  pleasures  of  the  body,  mental  pains  worse  than  physical 
pains.  For  the  flesh  is  sensible  only  to  present  affliction,  while 
the  soul  feels  the  past,  present,  and  future.  Not  only  is  mental 
enjoyment  "greyer  than  physical,  but  physical  enjoyment  is 
not  possible  without  mental.  Hence  Epicurus  declares  that  it 
«.s  tbj  part  of  wisdom  to  choose  the  joys  of  intellectual  life. 
The  reason  for  this  is  plain.  We  are  afraid  of  the  catastrophes 
of  nature,  of  the  wrath  of  the  gods,  of  death  and  the  hereafter ; 
we  worry  over  the  past,  present,  and  future.  So  long  as  we  do 
this,  we  cannot  be  happy.  To  rid  ourselves  of  our  fears,  we 
should  seek  to  understand  the  natural  causes  of  things,  that  is, 
study  philosophy.  "  It  would  not  be  possible  for  a  person  to 
banish  all  fear  about  those  things  which  are  called  most  essential, 
unless  he  knew  what  is  the  nature  of  the  universe,  or  if  he  had 
any  idea  that  the  fables  told  about  it  could  be  true ;  and  there- 
fore it  is  that  a  person  cannot  enjoy  unmixed  pleasure  without 
physiological  knowledge  "  [knowledge  of  nature]. 

We  can  obtain  pleasures  by  satisfying  a  desire  or  by  having 
no  desire.  Pleasure  accompanying  the  satisfaction  of  a  desire, 
like  hunger,  is  not  pure,  but  a  mixture  of  pleasure  and  pain; 
pure  pleasure  ensues  when  a  desire  has  been  satisfied  and  dis- 
appears, when  we  no  longer  desire.  Freedom  from  pain  is  the 
highest  measure  of  pleasure;  it  cannot  be  intensified.  Hence, 
desire  that  aims  beyond  this  state  is  immoderate. 

To  be  free  from  trouble  and  fear,  we  should  know  the  causes 
of  things,  and  what  pleasures  to  follow  and  what  to  avoid;  in 
other  words,  be  prudent.  And  if  we  are  prudent,  we  will  be 
virtuous,  we  will  obey  the  rules  of  morality,  for  no  one  can  be 
happy  without  living  prudently,  honorably,  and  justly.  Virtue, 
then,  or  morality,  is  a  means  to  an  end:  happiness  or  repose 


EPICUREANISM  103 

of  spirit ;  it  is  not  an  end  in  itself,  but,  like  the  art  of  healing, 
a  means;  we  praise  it  and  exercise  it  for  its  utility.  But  hap- 
piness cannot  be  realized  by  a  life  of  sensual  enjoyment  and 
debauchery;  it  is  bound  up  with  the  same  virtues  that  Plato 
and  Aristotle  and  the  Stoics  recommended:  wisdom,  courage, 
temperance,  and  justice. 

Social  life  is  based  on  the  principle  of  self-interest ;  individuals 
join  together  in  groups  for  self -protection   (contract  theory). 
There  is  no  such  thing  as  absolute  justice :  so-called 
natural  rights  are  rules  of  conduct  which  men  agree 
to  follow  on  account  of  their  utility.    All  laws  and  institutions 
are  just  only  in  so  far  as  they  make  for  the  security  of  the 
individual,  that  is,  when  they  are  useful.     Certain  rules  have 
been  found  by  experience  to  be  necessary  wherever  men  live 
together  in  society,  which  accounts  for  certain  universal  laws; 
but  laws  also  differ  in  different  countries  according  to  conditions. 

We  are  just  because  it  is  to  our  advantage  to  be  just;  there 
is  nothing  evil  in  injustice  as  such,  but  to  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  judge  and  to  live  in  constant  fear  of  punishment,  that 
is  an  evil.  Since  participation  in  public  life  does  not  contribute 
to  happiness,  the  wise  man  will  avoid  it  as  much  as  possible. 

Though  the  pleasure-theory  of  Epicurus  is  not  a  doctrine  of 
sensuality,  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  many  of  its  followers 
came  to  interpret  it  as  such  in  order  to  suit  their  own  desires 
for  a  life  of  luxury  and  sensuous  enjoyment.  If  pleasure  is 
the  highest  good  for  each  individual,  then  what  gives  him 
pleasure  is  good.  If  he  prefers  the  pleasures  of  sense  to  the 
higher  pleasures,  if  he  can  rid  his  mind  of  superstitious  fears 
without  leading  an  intellectual  life,  without  philosophy,  and 
attain  the  repose  of  spirit,  who  can  gainsay  him?  "  The  quan- 
tity of  pleasure  being  equal,  push-pin  is  as  good  as  poetry," 
to  use  Bentham  's  phrase.  Epicurus  preferred  poetry  and  science 
and  virtues,  and  so  did  Atticus  and  Horace  and  Lucretius ;  but 
"  for  every  Atticus  and  every  Horace  there  were  a  hundred 
Catilines  and  a  hundred  Verres. ' '  *  The  truth  is,  the  Epicurean 
philosophy  is  essentially  a  doctrine  of  enlightened  self-interest. 
The  individual  is  asked  to  make  his  own  happiness  the  goal 
*  Denis,  Histoire  des  theories  et  des  idees  morales. 


104  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

of  all  his  strivings,  and  such  a  theory  of  life  is  apt  to  lead  to 
selfish  disregard  of  others. 

See  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  vol.  I;  Friedlander,  Die 
Sittengeschichte  Eoms,  2  vols. 

13.    STOICISM 

Opposed  to  the  materialistic,  hedonistic,  and  egoistic  concep- 
tion of  the  world  and  of  life  is  the  philosophy  taught  by  Socrates, 

Plato,  and  Aristotle.  After  the  death  of  the  great 
School  ^  leaders>  the  essential  elements  of  their  theory  of 

life  were  presented  in  popular  form  by  the  Stoics, 
a  school  founded  by  Zeno,  around  300  B.C.,  at  Athens,  which 
had  many  followers  in  Greece  and  Borne,  and  continued  its 
existence  far  into  Christian  times.  Zeno  shows  the  influence  of 
the  Cynics  and  Megarians,  as  well  as  of  Plato  and  Aristotle. 
Cynic  ethics  he  frees  from  its  narrowness  and  places  on  a  logical 
and  metaphysical  foundation.  He  makes  use  of  Platonic  and 
Aristotelian  notions  in  modified  form,  but  refuses  to  conceive 
form  and  matter  as  different  in  kind,  and  returns  to  the  hylozo- 
ism  of  Heraclitus. 

Zeno  was  born  336  B.C.  in  Citium,  Cyprus,  a  Greek  city  with  a  large 
foreign,  perhaps  Semitic,  population.  He  came  to  Athens,  314,  and 
studied  under  Crates  the  Cynic,  Stilpo  the  Megarian,  and  Polemon 
of  the  Academy,  all  of  whom  had  influence  on  his  teachings.  In  294 
he  opened  a  school  in  the  Stoa  Poikile  (the  painted  corridor  or  porch), 
from  which  the  doctrines  represented  by  him  received  their  name. 
Zeno  was  esteemed  for  the  nobility  of  his  character,  the  simplicity 
of  his  life,  his  affability,  and  moral  earnestness.  He  died  264  B.C. 

Zeno  was  followed  in  the  leadership  of  the  Stoic  school  by  his  pupil 
Cleanthes  (264-232  B.C.),  who  does  not  seem  to  have  possessed  the 
qualities  needed  to  meet  the  attacks  of  the  Epicureans  and  Skeptics. 
His  successor  in  office  (232-204)  was  jChrysippus  of  Soli,  Cilicia,  a 
man  of  great  ability,  who  clearly  defined  the  teachings  of  the  school, 
gave  unity  to  the  system,  and  defended  it  against  the  Skeptics.  Among 
the  pupils  of  Chrysippus  were  Zeno  of  Tarsus,  Diogenes  of  Babylon, 
Antipater  of  Tarsus.  Stoicism,  as  developed  by  Chrysippus,  found 
favor  in  Rome  during  the  Republic,  Pansetius  (180-110)  being  one 
of  its  first  Roman  adherents  of  note.  During  the  Empire,  it  divided 
into  two  sections,  the  one  popular,  represented  by  Musonius  Rufus 
(first  century  A.D. ) , Jjjeneca  (3-65  A.D.),  Epictetus  (first  century),  the 
Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius  .  (121-180) ;  the  other  scientific,  whose  sole 
aim  was  to  preserve  intact  and  interpret  the  old  doctrine.  Corinthus 
and  Herocles.  whose  work  on  Ethics  was  recently  discovered,  belong 


STOICISM  105 

to  this  branch.  We  shall  offer  the  Stoic  philosophy  as  it  was  worked 
out  in  the  course  of  the  development  of  the  Greek  school,  limiting 
ourselves  to  the  most  important  phases  of  it. 

Of  the  old  Stoa  (304-205  B.C.)  and  Middle  Stoa  (down  to  the  Roman 
Empire)  we  have  no  primary  sources  except  the  Hymn  of  Cleanthes 
and  numerous  quotations  in  later  works.  We  have  to  depend  for  our 
knowledge  of  the  teachings  on  the  secondary  sources,  especially  Diogenes 
Laertius,  Stobaeus,  Cicero,  Plutarch,  Simplicius,  and  Sextus  Empiricus, 
from  whom  we  may  learn  the  spirit  of  this  philosophy,  though  we 
are  unable  to  distinguish  with  certainty  between  the  respective  con- 
tributions of  the  leaders.  Of  the  later  Roman  Stoa  we  have  numerous 
Greek  and  Latin  writings.  In  addition  to  the  collections  of  fragments 
already  mentioned,  consult:  J.  von  Arnim's  collection,  3  vols. ;  Pearson, 
Fragments  of  Zeno  and  Cleanthes;  Diels,  Doxographi  Grceci. 

Translations  of  Epictetus,  Discourses  (with  Encheiridion  and  frag- 
ments), by  Long,  Higginson;  of  Marcus  Aurelius,  Meditations,  by  Long. 
Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  vol.  I ;  Hicks,  Stoic  and  Epicurean; 
Arnold,  Roman  Stoicism;  Bussell,  Marcus  Aurelius  and  the  Later 
Stoics;  Watson,  M.  A.  Antoninus;  Barth,  Die  Stoa,  2d  ed. 

Hatch,  Influence  of  Greek  Ideas  and  Usages  on  the  Christian  Church; 
Hirzel,  Untersuchungen  zu  Cicero's  Philosophie  (Part  II,  pp.  1-566  on 
Stoics) ;  Weygold,  Die  Philosophie  der  Stoa;  Schmekel,  Philosophie  der 
mittleren  Stoa;  Heinze,  Lehre  vom  Logos,  etc. ;  Ogerau,  Systeme  philo- 
sophique  des  Stoiciens;  Bonhoffer,  Epiktet  und  die  Stoa,  Die  Ethik  des 
Stoikers  Epiktet,  and  Epiktet  und  das  neue  Testament;  Dryoff,  Ethik 
der  alien  Stoa.  Susemihl,  Geschichte  der  Litteratur  in  der  Alexandri- 
nerzeit;  Wendland,  Hellenistisch-romische  Kultur.  Good  bibliography 
in  Hicks. 

The  goal  of  the  Stoic  philosophy  is  to  find  a  rational  basis 
for  ethics.     We  cannot  understand  the  meaning  of  the  good 
unless  we  have  a  criterion  of  truth  and  a  theory         . 
of  the  universe,  that  is,  unless  we  study  logic  and 
metaphysics.     The  Stoics  compared  philosophy  to  a  field,   of 
which  logic  is  the  fence,  physics  the  soil,  and  ethics  the  fruit. 

We  begin  with  logic,  which  is  the  science  of  thoughts  and  dis- 
courses, i.e.,  of  concepts,  judgments,  and  inferences,  as  well  as  of 
their  expression  in  language.  The  Stoics  included  grammar  in 
logic,  and  are  the  founders  of  our  traditional  science  of  grammar. 
We  shall  limit  ourselves  to  the  so-called  dialectical  part,  which 
deals  with  the  theory  of  knowledge  and  discusses  two  main 
problems :  What  is  the  origin  of  knowledge,  or  how  do  we  reach 
truth?  and,  What  is  the  criterion  of  knowledge? 

Oar  knowledge  is  gained  through  perception.     There  are  no 
Jonafo  iflpas,  as  Plato  holds;  the  soul  is_aLbirth  an  empty  tablet, 
a  tabula  rasa,  which  receives  fEeimpressionsoJ^tnings^  'sis  "a* 


106  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

wax  tablet  receives  the  impression  of  the  stamp.  Chrysippus 
speaks  of  sensation  as  a  modification  of  consciousness.  Im- 
pressions persist  and  form  memory-images,  which,  when  com- 
bined, constitute  experience.  From  sensation  and  images  general 
ideas  are  formed,  which,  when  based  on  common  experiences 
and  derived  naturally,  are  called  common  notions  (notitice 
communes).  They  are  the  same  in  all  persons,  and  not  subject 
to  illusion  or  error.  Scientific  concepts,  however,  are  produced 
consciously  and  methodically,  being  the  result  of  voluntary  re- 
flection. 

Sense-perception  is  the  basis  of  all  our  knowledge.  The  mind 
has  the  faculty  of  forming  general  ideas,  of  comprehending  in 
concepts  a  large  number  of  particular  cases  according  to  their 
likeness,  and  of  forming  universal  judgments  on  the  basis  of  the 
same.  This  faculty  is  called  reason  (Ao^o?),  and  is  a  faculty 
both  of  thought  and  of  speech.  It  is  identical,  in  essence,  with 
the  universal  reason  which  fashions  the  matter  of  the  world 
according  to  its  thoughts.  It  is  owing  to  this  that  the  human 
mind  can  reproduce  the  thoughts  of  God,  and  thus  conceive  the 
world.  But  in  order  to  be  true,  concepts  must  agree  with  the 
divine  thoughts  which  express  themselves  in  the  qualities  of 
the  world.  The  Stoics  opposed  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  ideas, 
regarding  universals  as  subjective  abstractions,  and  holding  that 
only  particular  objects  have  real  existence. 

Our  knowledge,  therefore,  rests  on  perceptions  and  on  the 
general  ideas  and  concepts  derived  from  them.  A  sense-image 
is  true  when  it  is  an  exact  copy  of  the  object.  But  percepts 
and  concepts  may  be  false ;  many  of  our  ideas  evidently  do  not 
give  us  truth;  some  of  them  are  delusive.  How  can  we  dis- 
tinguish the  true  from  the  false?  What  shall  be  our  criterion? 
How  can  we  tell  whether  there  really  is  anything  corresponding 
to  our  ideas?  How  do  we  know  that  they  are  not  merely  the 
creations  of  our  own  fancy?  All  our  knowledge  is  based  on 
perception.  In  order  to  be  true,  a  percept  must  be  accompanied 
by  the  consciousness  or  immediate  conviction  that  there  is  a 
real  object  corresponding  to  it,  that  it  agrees  with  the  object. 
This  consciousness  will  appear  when  the  subject  has  convinced 
himself  that  the  sense-organ  is  in  normal  condition,  that  the 
percept  is.  clear  and  distinct,  and  that  repeated  observations 


STOICISM  107 

by  himself  and  others  verify  the  first  impression.  A  sensation 
that  carries  such  conviction  with  it  is  called  by  Zeno  a  conceptual 
impression,  or,  as  some  translate  it,  the  apprehending  presenta- 
tion. 

The  criterion  of  knowledge,  then,  is  the  self-evidence  of  the 
impression  or  concept,  the  feeling  of  conviction  that  there  is 
a  reality  corresponding,  to  it.  Some  of  our  concepts  compel 
such  a  feeling,  some  of  them  do  not.  Merely  subjective  or 
imaginary  ideas  are  not  accompanied  by  this  consciousness.  We 
need  not  give  our  assent  to  such  ideas,  or  pronounce  judgment 
where  conviction  is  absent,  hence  we  ourselves  are  responsible 
for  error ;  judgment  here  is  an  act  of  free  will.  We  cannot,  how- 
ever, deny  assent  to  a  conceptual  impression  or  idea. 

Knowledge  of  truth  is  not  the  exclusive  possession  of  science 
or  philosophy.  All  men  share  in  knowledge  through  their  gen- 
eral ideas.  But  such  common  notions  do  not  carry  conviction 
with  them,  as  does  genuine  knowledge  (eTtiffrrfw),  which  is 
acquired  by  reasoning.  Science  is  an  organized  body  of  true 
judgments,  in  which  one  proposition  is  deduced  from  another 
by  logical  necessity.  The  faculty  of  drawing  correct  inferences, 
therefore,  is  another  means  of  reaching  truth,  and  dialectics 
an  essential  qualification  of  the  Stoic  sage.  The  Stoics  conse- 
quently gave  considerable  attention  to  formal  logic,  particularly 
to  the  doctrine  of  the  syllogism,  which  they  regarded  as  its 
most  important  phase;  they  also  made  additions  to  the  Aristo- 
telian logic  and  revised  the  table  of  categories. 

The  main  purpose  of  the  Stoic  logic  was  to  show  that  the 
mind  cannot  create  knowledge  out  of  itself,  that  the  source  of 
all  our  knowledge  is  perception ;  that  this  furnishes  the  materials 
of  knowledge.  The  Stoics  did  not,  however,  deny  the  activity 
of  thought;  indeed,  they  insisted  that  knowledge  is  advanced 
by  reflection  on  experience,  by  organizing  the  raw  material  into 
concepts,  by  forming  judgments  concerning  it,  by  drawing  in- 
ferences and  passing  from  that  which  is  directly  given  to  the 
remote  in  time  and  place,  from  the  particular  to  the  universal. 

The  Stoics  agree  with  Aristotle  that  everything  that  exists 
results  from  two  principles,  a  principle  that  acts,  moves,  and 
forms,  and  a  principle  that  is  acted  on,  moved,  and  formed,  from 
an  active  and  a  passive  principle.  And  they  agree  with  him  also 


108  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

that  these  two  things  are  not  separate  entities,  although  they 
may  be  distinguished  in  thought,  but  united  in  one  reality.     They 
""  .         differ  from  him,  however,  in  their  notion  of  the  na- 

ture of  the  principles.  For  them  nothing  is  real 
that  does  not  act  or  is  not  acted  on;  and  since  only  bodies 
are  active  and  passive,  form  or  force  and  matter  are  both 
corporeal.  These,  however,  differ  in  the  degree  of  their  cor- 
poreality, if  we  may  so  express  it ;  force  consists  of  a  finer  kind 
of  stuff,  while  matter,  as  such,  is  coarse,  formless,  and  immov- 
able. The  two  are  inseparable,  as  we  have  said;  there  is  no 
force  without  matter  and  no  matter  without  force :  matter  is 
everywhere  permeated  with  force.  Everything  in  the  world 
is  corporeal,  the  human  soul  and  God  included.  Even  qualities 
are  corporeal,  consisting  of  a  pneumatic  substance  (Ttvsv^a), 
which  is  a  mixture  of  fire  and  air,  and  making  each  particular 
object  what  it  is.  Fire  and  air  are  active  elements,  the  principles 
of  life  and  mind ;  water  and  earth  are  passive  elements,  as  such 
inert  and  lifeless,  clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter.  The  pneumatic 
substance  pervades  every  particle  of  matter;  it  does  not  merely 
fill  the  spaces  between  the  molecules,  but  is  present  in  every 
smallest  piece  of  reality  and  continuous  throughout  the  universe. 
Each  particular  thing  has  qualities  which  distinguish  it  from 
every  other  thing;  they  owe  their  existence  to  the  material 
forms  penetrating  the  body. 

C      Only  forces  have  causality,  and  causes  can  act  only  on  bodies. 
)   But  the  effect  is  always  incorporeal;  a  cause  produces  a  state 
I    in  another  body,  a  movement  or  a  change,  which  is  neither  a 
f     body  nor  a  quality  of  a  body,  but  a  mere  state  of  the  body. 
Causal  action  and  force  are  here  identified;  causal  action  can 
be  exercised  only  on  a  body;  the  effect,  however,  which  results 
is  not  a  cause  or  force,  but  a  mere  accidental  state  of  the  body. 
If  the  effect  were  a  body,  the  force  would  have  produced  another 
body,  which  is  impossible.    Relations,  too,  are  incorporeal.    The 
active  principle,  however,  let  it  be  remembered,  is  alive,  intelli- 
gent; in  this  respect  the  Stoics  approximate  to  the  Aristotelian 
conception.    From  their  sensationalistic  standpoint,  they  simply 
refuse  to  conceive  it  as  pure  form  or  spirit.    Their  metaphysics 
is   the   Platonic-Aristotelian    philosophy    translated   back    into 
hylozoism. 


STOICISM  109 

The  forces  in  the  universe  form  one  all-pervasive  force  or 
fire  (Heraclitus),  and  this  principle  is  rational,  the  active  soul 
of  the  world.  It  must  be  one,  because  the  universe  is  a  unity, 
because  all  its  parts  are  in  harmony;  it  is  conceived  as  fire, 
because  heat  produces  everything  and  moves  everything,  is  the 
giver  of  life.  It  is  reason, — intelligent,  purposeful,  and  good, — 
because  the  universe  is  a  cosmos,  a  beautiful,  well-ordered,  good, 
and  perfect  whole  (teleological  argument).  All  life  and  move- 
ment have  their  source  in  it:  it  is  God.  It  is  related  to  the 
matter  of  the  world  as  the  human  soul  is  related  to  its  body: 
the  world  is  the  body  of  God,  a  living  organism.  It  is  the  soul 
or  logos  (hoyos)  of  the  universe ;  in  it  are  contained  all  the  germs 
or  seeds  (spermata)  of  life ;  in  it  the  whole  cosmos  lies  potential, 
as  the  plant  in  the  seed.  This  is  pantheism. 

The  universal  reason  or  soul  pervades  the  whole  world,  just 
as  the  human  soul  is  everywhere  present  in  the  body.  But  just 
as  the  governing  part  of  the  soul  is  situated  in  a  particular  place 
or  center,  so  the  ruling  part  of  the  world-soul,  the  Deity,  or 
Zeus,  is  seated  at  the  outermost  circle  of  the  world,  whence  it 
spreads  through  the  world.  The  two  parts,  however,  form  one 
single  godhead,  one  of  them  assuming  the  form  of  the  world, 
the  other  retaining  its  original  shape.  God,  the  father  of  all 
things,  the  perfect  and  blessed  being,  has  prevision  and  will,  is 
a  lover  of  man,  benevolent,  cares  for  everything,  punishes  the 
wicked  and  rewards  the  good.  In  these  respects  the  Stoic  God 
is  like  the  God  of  theism.  But  there  is  a  difference.  He  is  not, 
after  all,  taken  as  a  whole,  a  free  personality,  a  free  creator 
of  the  world,  but,  as  we  have  seen,  the  substance  from  which 
everything  proceeds  with  the  necessity  of  a  process  of  nature. 
The  Stoics  assign  will  and  forethought  to  him,  but  they  likewise 
identify  him  with  necessary  law  The  fact  is  these  notions  are 
not  consistently  carried  out;  pantheism  and  theism  dwell  to- 
gether in  the  system,  unconscious  of  one  another,  as  in  many 
modern  systems. 

The    Stoics    offer    a   detailed    description    of    the    evolution 
of  the  world  from  the  original  divine  fire.     Air,  water,  and 
earth  arise  from  fire;  the  divine  principle,  how-  c 
ever,   permeates   the   lower  elements.      (It   seems 
that    the    lower   elements,    earth    and    water,    are    condensed 


110  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

forms  of  fire,  the  active  principle;  that  is,  fire  that  has  lost 
its  force:  matter  is  a  waste-product.)  The  divine  element 
itself  differentiates  into  forms  of  varying  degrees  of  purity, 
acting  in  inorganic  nature  as  blind  causality,  in  the  vegetable 
kingdom  as  a  blind  but  purposive  natural  force,  in  animals 
as  a  purposive  impulse  guided  by  ideas,  in  man  as  rational 
conscious  purpose.  Natural  objects  are  explained  as  com- 
binations of  the  four  elements;  their  differences,  partly  as 
differences  in  mixture,  partly  as  differences  in  the  formative 
action  of  the  divine  fire.  The  universe  is  a  perfect  sphere  floating 
in  empty  space,  held  together  and  animated  by  its  soul.  It 
arose  in  time  and  will  return  to  tire,  to  pure  life  and  rationality, 
whence  it  came  (the  great  conflagration),  only  to  pass  through 
the  same  cycle,  again  and  again,  world  without  end.  But  every 
recurring  world  will  resemble  its  predecessors  in  every  detail 
(palingenesis),  for  each  is  produced  by  the  same  law.  Every- 
thing is  absolutely  determined,  even  the  human  will ;  the  universe 
forms  an  unbroken  causal  chain;  nothing  happens  by  chance; 
everything  follows  necessarily  from  the  one  first  cause  or  mover. 
Man  is  free  in  the  sense  that  he  can  assent  to  what  fate  decrees, 
but,  whether  he  assents  or  not,  he  must  obey.  Yet,  in  so  far 
as  the  law  and  reason  of  the  world,  and  the  necessity  following 
from  it,  has  its  source  in  the  will  of  God,  everything  is  under 
the  will  of  God  or  divine  Providence.  That  is,  whatever  evolves 
from  the  original  principle  is  in  accordance  with  the  divine 
purpose ;  it  is  the  realization  of  a  potential  purpose  of  God.  In 
this  sense,  Fate  and  Providence  are  not  opposed:  fate  or  law 
is  the  will  of  God. 

The  question  arises,  if  everything  is  a  manifestation  of  God, 
how  shall  we  explain  the  existence  of  evil  in  the  world?  The 
Stoics  sometimes  denied  the  existence  of  evil:  the  world  is  good 
and  perfect,  the  so-called  evils  in  it  are  only  relative  evils;  like 
shadows  in  a  picture  or  discords  in  music,  they  are  necessary 
to  the  beauty  and  perfection  of  the  whole;  or  they  are  means 
of  realizing  the  good.  Sometimes  they  regarded  evil  (e.g.,  dis- 
ease) as  the  inevitable  consequence  of  nature,  as  necessary  evil. 
Besides,  since  physical  evil  cannot  affect  human  character,  it 
is  not  really  evil.  As  for  moral  evil,  it  is  impossible  to  have 
the  tendency  to  virtue  without  its  opposite;  moreover,  virtue 


STOICISM  111 

grows  strong  in  combating  it.  The  truth  is,  the  universe  is  a 
beautiful,  good,  and  perfect  whole,  in  which  every  part  has  its 
own  proper  place  and  purpose. 

Man  is  composed  of  body  and  soul;  the  soul  is  a  material 
substance,  a  spark  of  the  divine  fire.  It  is  nourished  by  the 
blood.  The  ruling  part,  which  is  situated  in  the 
heart,  exercises  all  the  psychic  functions:  percep-  SyC 
tion,  judgment,  inference,  feeling,  and  will;  it  becomes  rational, 
in  the  course  of  time,  acquiring  the  power  of  conceptual  thought. 
Man  is  free  in  so  far  as  he  has  logical  thought ;  he  is  not  merely 
governed  by  images  and  impulses,  like  the  brute,  but  deliberates 
and  chooses  only  such  acts  as  gain  the  assent  of  reason.  A  man 
is  free  when  he  acts  in  accordance  with  reason,  that  is,  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  eternal  laws  of  nature.  There  is,  therefore,  no  conflict 
between  what  the  wise  man  wills  to  do  and  what  nature  com- 
mands. The  philosopher  in  possession  of  the  complete  system 
of  truths  is  as  free  as  God  himself. 

There  are  different  Stoic  doctrines  of  immortality;  according 
to  some  members  of  the  school,  all  souls  continue  to  exist  until 
the  end  of  the  world,  according  to  others  only  the  wise  and 
virtuous  souls  persist.  But  all  souls  reappear  with  the  recreation 
of  the  universe  (palingenesis).  Man  is  the  end  or  purpose  of 
nature,  that  is,  of  God. 

On  the  theories  set  forth  in  the  foregoing  pages,  the  Stoics 
based  their  ethical  philosophy.  They  conceived  the  universe, 

not  as  a  mechanical-causal  series,  but  as  an  organ-  _ 

~  ...  ,  n    Ethics 

ized  rational  system,  as  a  beautiful  well-ordered 

whole,  in  which  every  part  has  its  function  to  perform  with 
respect  to  the  whole,  and  in  which  all  things  work  together 
for  the  good  of  the  whole.  It  was  for  them  a  harmonious  unity 
with  a  ruling  purpose,  a  living,  intelligent  God.  Man  is  a  part 
of  the  universal  order,  a  spark  of  the  divine  fire;  he  is  the 
microcosm,  his  own  nature  being  identical  with  that  of  the  All. 
Hence  it  behooves  him  to  act  in  harmony  with  the  purpose  of 
the  universe,  to  seek  to  realize  the  purpose  of  his  own  being  in 
the  divine  purpose,  to  reach  the  highest  possible  measure  of 
perfection.  In  order  to  do  this,  he  must  put  his  own  soul  in 
order;  reason  should  rule  in  him  as  reason  rules  the  world. 
And  he  ought  to  subordinate  his  will  to  the  will  of  the  world, 


112  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

submit  to  the  law  of  the  universe,  take  his  place  in  the  great 
order,  and  strive  to  do  consciously,  intelligently,  and  voluntarily 
what  it  is  his  office  to  do  as  a  member  of  the  cosmos. 

This  is  what  the  Stoic  means  by  demanding  that  we  live 
according  to  nature,  for  living  according  to  nature  is  for  a 
human  being  to  act  in  conformity  with  reason,  or  the  logos, 
or  to  live  a  good  life.  Virtue  is,  therefore,  the  highest  good 
and  the  highest  happiness,  for  only  a  virtuous  life  can  be  a 
happy  life.  And  to  live  thus  is  to  realize  oneself  •  for  to  realize 
one's  true  self  is  to  serve  the  purposes  of  universal  reason  and 
to  work  for  universal  ends.  This  implies  a  universal  society  of 
rational  beings  with  the  same  rights;  for  reason  is  the  same 
in  all,  and  all  are  parts  of  the  same  world-soul. 

The  same  conclusions  may  be  reached  by  a  consideration  of 
the  natural  impulses  of  man;  for,  according  to  the  Stoics,  the 
universal  logos  expresses  itself  in  the  lower  instincts  no  less 
than  in  human  reason.  Every  being  strives  to  preserve  itself; 
hence  pleasure  is  not  the  goal  of  impulse,  but  merely  a  con- 
comitant of  its  successful  realization.  Nor  is  the  preservation 
of  the  individual  the  goal,  for  there  is  native  to  all  living 
creatures  an  instinct  to  preserve  the  species,  a  desire  of  some- 
thing beyond  themselves.  With  the  development  of  reason  man 
comes  to  regard  his  rational  nature  as  his  true  self,  and  finds 
satisfaction  in  the  perfection  of  reason  and  the  promotion  of 
rational  purposes  everywhere.  What  he  loves  in  himself,  he 
cannot  but  love  in  others.  By  this  is  not  meant  that  theoretical 
speculation  is  an  end  in  itself  for  Stoicism;  reason  is  so  highly 
valued  because  it  reveals  to  us  our  duty. 

Virtue,  therefore,  is  the  only  good  and  vice  the  only  evil,  all 
else  is  indifferent  in  comparison  with  the  ideal;  health,  life, 
honor,  wealth,  rank,  power,  friendship,  success  are  not  in  them- 
selves good;  nor  are  death,  disease,  disgrace,  poverty,  humble 
birth  in  themselves  evil.  Neither  is  pleasure  or  happiness  good 
as  such,  an  absolute  good ;  it  is  a  consequent  of  action  and  should 
never  be  made  the  end.  Such  things  are  not  in  our  power ;  but 
how  we  shall  act  with  respect  to  them  is  in  our  power.  Their 
value  depends  on  what  use  we  make  of  them,  on  their  bearing 
upon  our  character;  in  themselves  they  are  nothing.  Virtue 
ftlone  can  make  man  happy. 


STOICISM  113 

A  truly  virtuous  act  is  one  that  is  consciously  directed  toward 
the  highest  purpose  or  end,  and  is  performed  with  conscious 
knowledge  of  moral  principles.  That  is,  virtuous  conduct  implies 
complete  and  certain  knowledge  of  the  good  and  a  conscious 
purpose,  on  the  part  of  the  doer,  to  realize  the  supreme  good. 
To  act  unconsciously  and  without  knowledge  is  not  virtue.  If 
we  look  at  the  matter  in  this  way,  virtue  is  one,  for  here  every- 
thing depends  on  the  disposition,  on  the  good  will :  a  man  either 
has  it  or  he  has  it  not ;  there  is  no  middle  ground ;  he  is  either 
a  wise  man  or  a  fool.  In  this  sense,  where  one  virtue  is,  all  are. 
The  virtues  are  expressions  of  one  and  the  same  disposition  and, 
therefore,  inseparably  connected  with  one  another.  ( Chrysippus 
did  not  accept  this  view.)  Virtue  is  not  a  natural  possession 
of  man,  but  acquired  by  practice  and  through  instruction. 
Inasmuch  as  virtue  implies  complete  knowledge,  only  a  mature 
man  can  have  it.  The  assumption  here  is  that  a  man  will  act 
according  to  his  judgment,  that  he  will  naturally  strive  for  what 
appears  good  to  him,  and  avoid  what  is  evil.  Hence,  evil  conduct 
is  the  result  of  wrong  judgment,  or  false  opinion:  this  the  Stoics 
regard  sometimes  as  the  cause,  sometimes  as  the  effect,  of  the 
passions  or  immoderate  impulses,  impulses  that  overshoot  the 
mark.  There  are  four  such  passions  (TtdSrj)  :  pleasure,  desire, 
fear,  and  grief.  A  false  judgment  of  a  present  good  arouses 
(or  is  aroused  by)  pleasure;  of  a  future  good,  desire;  of  a 
present  evil,  pain;  of  a  future  evil,  fear.  All  these  passions 
and  their  different  kinds  are  diseases  of  the  soul,  which  it  is 
our  business  to  eradicate,  not  merely  to  moderate;  quite  natu- 
rally, for  they  are  irrational,  exaggerated  feelings:  passion  is 
false  opinion.  Freedom  from  passion  or  apathy  is,  therefore, 
the  Stoic  ideal.  In  order  to  realize  it,  complete  knowledge  is 
necessary,  and  such  knowledge  is  connected  with  strength  of 
will  or  character.  To  be  free  from  passion  means  to  be  brave 
and  temperate.  It  lies  with  the  individual  himself,  however, 
whether  he  will  obey  the  moral  law  or  not;  the  will  is  free. 
In  their  metaphysics,  the  Stoics  teach  determinism;  in  their 
ethics,  free  will. 

As  we  have  already  shown,  the  ethics  of  the  Stoics  is  not 
egoistic.  Man  has  not  only  the  impulse  of  self-preservation,  but 
the  social  impulse,  which  leads  him  to  an  ever-extending  group* 


114  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

life.  The  promptings  of  the  natural  instinct  are  made  fully  con« 
scious  and  verified  by  rational  thought;  reason  teaches  that  we 
are  members  of  a  cosmic  society  of  rational  beings 
toward  whom  we  have  duties  (justice  and  be- 
nevolence). This  society  is  a  kind  of  universal  State,  in  which 
there  is  but  one  law,  one  right  (natural  law,  natural  right), 
because  there  is  but  one  universal  reason.  In  this  universal 
State  morality  is  the  sole  test,  the  sole  standard  of  discrimination 
between  citizens;  here  gods  and  sages  are  the  privileged  indi- 
viduals, whom,  however,  every  one  is  free  to  join.  All  men  are 
related,  all  are  brothers,  children  of  the  same  father;  they  have 
the  same  origin  and  destiny;  the  same  universal  reason  speaks 
in  them  all;  they  stand  under  one  law  and  are  citizens  of  one 
State;  even  our  enemies  are  entitled  to  our  help  and  pardon. 
Reason  demands  that  we  place  the  universal  welfare,  the  common 
good,  above  our  own  particular  interests,  that  we  sacrifice  our- 
selves for  it  if  need  be,  for  in  realizing  the  universal  good  we 
are  fulfilling  our  true  mission  and  preserving  our  true  selves. 
This  is  the  Stoic  cosmopolitanism. 

Unlike  the  Epicureans,  who  held  themselves  aloof  from  public 
affairs,  the  Stoics  recommended  participation  in  political  affairs : 
it  is  the  duty  of  every  man  to  take  part  in  social  and  political 
life  in  the  same  spirit  in  which  he  behaves  as  a  citizen  of  the 
world,  to  labor  for  the  welfare  of  his  own  people  and  his  own 
State.  But  they  could  never  become  narrow  chauvinists;  their 
nationalism  was  broadened  by  a  humanitarianism  that  embraced 
the  entire  world.  The  laws  of  the  particular  states  must  be 
rooted  in  the  universal  law  and  justice  of  the  universal  State; 
natural  right  is  the  basis  of  the  positive  law.  Friendship  and 
marriage  were  also  highly  prized  by  them,  as,  indeed,  were  all 
forms  of  social  life  in  which  the  individual  might  learn  to 
subordinate  himself  to  a  universal  ideal. 

True  religion  and  philosophy  are  one,  according  to  the  Stoics. 
They  were  defenders  of  the  popular  religion,  regarding  the  uni- 
versal  recognition  which  it  received  among  man- 
kind as  a  proof  of  its  truth.    It  appeared  to  them, 
likewise,  as  a  necessary  support  of  morality.     They  objected, 
however,  to  the  superstitious  and  anthropological  elements  in 
this  religion  and  offered  an  allegorical  interpretation  of  it, — • 


STOICISM  115 

the   first  systematic   attempt   which   had   been   made   in   this 
direction. 

Piety  is  the  knowledge  and  worship  of  the  gods:  it  consists 
in  forming  an  adequate  conception  of  them  and  imitating  their 
perfection.  Submission  to  the  universal  will,  or  resignation,  con- 
stitutes the  true  essence  of  religion. 

Common  to  nearly  all  the  Greek  theories  of  morality  is  the 
ideal  of  order,  harmony,  symmetry :  man  should  subject  himself 
to  the  rule  of  reason,  control  himself,  keep  measure 
in  all  things.  Materialists  and  idealists  agree,  also, 
on  the  importance  of  intelligence:  right  action 
depends  on  correct  thinking.  Nor  is  any  difference  made 
by  the  opposing  schools  between  the  kind  of  conduct  con- 
ducive to  a  good  life;  the  fundamental  virtues, — wisdom,  self- 
control,  courage,  and  justice, — are  recommended  by  the  refined 
hedonists  and  their  opponents  alike.  And  they  are  at  one  that 
by  living  a  life  of  virtue,  by  being  wise,  moderate,  brave,  and 
just,  man  attains  happiness,  repose  of  spirit,  peace  of  mind. 
The  difference  is:  the  hedonists  declare  we  should  follow  virtue 
for  the  sake  of  happiness,  while  the  ethical  idealists  regard  a 
well-ordered,  beautiful  soul  as  good  in  itself,  as  something  worthy 
of  attainment  even  if  it  did  not  bring  happiness.  All  prize  kind- 
ness to  fellow-men,  friendship,  benevolence,  brotherhood;  and 
both  Stoics  and  Epicureans  widened  the  circle  of  sympathy  to 
include  all  mankind.  But  Epicurus  tended  to  base  it  on  self- 
interest  (in  theory) :  we  cannot  be  happy  unless  we  are  at  peace 
with  our  surroundings.  The  Stoics,  on  the  other  hand,  made 
love  of  neighbor  a  good  in  itself:  my  fellow-man  is  not  a  mere 
means  to  my  happiness,  but,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  an  end 
in  himself. 

In  the  value  which  it  placed  on  man  as  such,  the  ethical 
philosophy  of  Stoicism  even  transcended  that  of  Plato  and 
Aristotle.  Both  of  these  moralists  defend  slavery  and  both  are 
influenced  by  national  prejudices;  both  look  upon  "  barbarians  " 
as  inferior  peoples  and  upon  slavery  as  a  natural  and  just  in- 
stitution. The  ideal  of  universal  brotherhood  and  equality  was 
not  theirs.  They  preached  justice  and  equal  rights  for  all  full- 
fledged  and  equal  citizens  of  the  State,  and  held  that  the  State 


116  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

was  made  for  peace  and  not  for  conquest.  But  the  citizens 
they  had  in  mind  were  always  free  and  intelligent  Hellenes.  It 
was  not  until  the  loss  of  Greek  independence  and  the  conquest 
of  the  so-called  barbarians  by  Alexander  that  the  idea  of  uni- 
versal brotherhood  and  equal  rights  for  all  rational  human  be- 
ings began  to  dawn  on  some  minds ;  and  this  ideal  was  preached 
by  the  Stoics.  The  solidarity  of  the  human  race  became  a 
central  thought  in  their  system.  The  notion  of  the  dignity  of 
man  developed:  the  idea  that  all  rational  beings  are  children 
of  the  same  father  and  citizens  of  the  world,  having  the  same 
rights  and  the  same  duties,  subject  to  the  same  law,  the  same 
truth,  and  the  same  reason.  The  value  of  a  man  depends  not 
on  wealth,  or  rank,  or  class,  but  on  his  moral  worth,  on  the  good 
will.  "  Virtue  despises  no  one,  neither  Greek  nor  barbarian, 
man  nor  woman,  rich  nor  poor,  freeman  nor  slave,  wise  nor 
ignorant,  whole  nor  sick. ' '  *  Character  is  the  supreme  test,  and 
this  no  one  can  give  and  no  one  can  take  away. 

14.    SKEPTICISM  AND  ECLECTICISM 

The  philosophical  movements  which  we  have  been  discussing, 
though  chiefly  interested  in  the  ethical  problem,  offer  compre- 
hensive  systems   of  metaphysics   and   attempt   to 
^  vP  1  prove  the  competence  of  human  reason  to  reach 

truth.  In  this  respect  they  follow  in  the  footsteps 
of  the  great  thinkers  after  Socrates,  who  had  defended  knowledge 
against  the  attacks  of  skepticism  and  had  restored  the  faith  of 
thought  in  itself.  But  the  time  seemed  ripe  again  for  another 
period  of  negation.  Contemporaneously  with  Stoicism  and  Epi- 
cureanism and,  as  a  kind  of  shadow  to  their  dogmatism,  there 
appeared  a  new  philosophy  of  doubt.  It  was  preached  by  Pyrrho 
of  Elis  and  called  Pyrrhonism,  a  name  which  has  become  a 
synonym  of  skepticism. 

Pyrrho  (365-270  B.C.),  who  studied  Democritus  in  his  youth  with  a 
pupil  of  the  great  Atomist,  and  became  acquainted  with  the  Elean- 
Megarian  teachings,  did  not  write  anything,  but  his  views  were  set 
down  by  Timon  of  Phlius  (320-230),  of  whose  satires  (ZOAw)  only 
fragments  remain.  After  Timon  the  skeptical  school  was  absorbed 
by  the  Platonic  Academy,  and  did  not  emerge  again  as  an  independent 

*  Denis,  Histoire  des  theories  et  des  idees  morales. 


SKEPTICISM  AND  ECLECTICISM  117 

movement  until  the  Academy  purged  itself  of  skepticism.  Arcesilaus 
(315-241)  was  the  first  of  the  leaders  of  the  Academy  to  give  up  the 
traditional  doctrine  and  to  devote  himself  to  the  criticism  of  Stoicism 
and  Epicureanism,  which  he  regarded  as  pseudo-philosophies.  He 
trained  his  pupils  in  dialectics,  or  the  art  of  proving  and  disproving 
every  thesis.  He  regarded  suspension  of  judgment  with  respect  to 
metaphysical  problems  as  the  ideal.  The  greatest  skeptic  in  the  Academy 
was  Carneades  (213-129),  who,  like  his  predecessor,  wrote  nothing; 
he  was  followed  by  Clitomachus  (+110),  Philo  of  Larissa  (+80),  and 
Antiochus  of  Ascalon  (+68). 

The  Academy  (called  Middle  Academy  during  the  skeptical  period) 
purged  itself  of  skepticism  under  the  headship  of  Philo  of  Larissa 
and  Antiochus;  and  skepticism  again  became  an  independent  movement 
under  the  leadership  of  ^Enesidemus,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Christian 
era,  and  was  later  represented  by  Sextus  Empiricus  (active  from  180- 
210  A.D.).  ^Enesidemus  wrote  a  work  on  Pyrrhonism,  fragments  of 
which  are  preserved  by  Sextus,  and  Sextus  Empiricus  wrote  Against 
the  Mathematicians  and  Pyrrhonic  Hypotyposes. 

Edition  of  fragments  of  Timon  of  Phlius  by  Wachsmuth. 

Maccoll,  Greek  Sceptics;  Patrick,  Sextus  Empiricus;  Robertson, 
Short  History  of  Free  Thought;  Goedeckemeyer,  Geschichte  des 
griechischen  Skepticismus;  R.  Richter,  Der  Skepticismus  in  der  Philoso- 
phic, 2  vols. ;  Staudlin,  Geschichte  des  Skepticismus;  Kreibig,  Ethischer 
Skepticismus;  Brochard,  Les  sceptiques  grecs;  Waddington,  Pyrrho  et 
Pyrrhonisme.  See  also  Hirzel  and  Schmekel,  cited  on  p.  105. 

The  thought  common  to  this  school  is  that  we  cannot  know    ' 
the  nature  of  things.    Our  senses  tell  us  only  how  things  appear 
to  us,  not  what  they  are  in  themselves.    If  sensation 
is  the  source  of  all  our  knowledge,  how  can  we 
know   whether   objects   agree   with   sensations   or 
not,  since  we  never  get  outside~of  our  sensations  ?    Moreover,  our 
thoughts   and   sensations   conflict,    and   we   have   no    criterion 
here  for  distinguishing  the  true  from  the  false  (Pyrrho).     The 
Epicureans  regard  every  sensation  as  a  criterion  of  truth,  the 
Stoics  say  it  is  only  the  sensation  carrying  conviction  with  it 
that  commands  our  assent;  but,  in  neither  case,  is  the  criterion 
a  safe  one.    It  deceives  us  constantly ;  percepts  that  have  nothing 
corresponding  to  them  may  be  just  as  clear  and  distinct  and 
self-evident  as  true  ones  (Arcesilaus).    We  cannot  tell  whether 
a  sensation  is  a  true  copy  of  the  real  object,  because  we  never 
have  the  object  with  which  to  compare  it.    Besides,  we  cannot 
assent  to  an  idea,  we  can  assent  only  to  a  judgment,  and  judg- 
ment is  already  thinking,  and  is  in  need  of  a  criterion   (Car- 
neades).   Carneades  also  declares  that  we  cannot  prove  anything. 


118  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

To  prove  anything,  we  must  either  assume  the  premise  from 
which  the  truth  follows,  which  is  begging  the  question,  or  we 
must  try  to  prove  the  premise  by  basing  it  on  other  premises. 
But,  in  this  way,  we  never  reach  a  stopping-place,  and  our  con- 
clusion can  never  attain  certainty. 

If  we  cannot  know  anything,  we  ought  to  suspend  judgment, 
that  is,  assume  nothing  at  all.  All  we  can  say  is  that  we  have 
such  and  such  states  of  consciousness,  that  an  object  appears 
white  or  black,  not  that  it  is  white  or  black.  And  this  will  be 
sufficient  for  all  practical  purposes  (Pyrrho).  Certain  knowl- 
edge is  also  out  of  the  question  in  moral  matters,  and  here  too 
we  ought  to  suspend  judgment.  We  can  save  ourselves  much 
unhappiness  if  we  do  this  and  cease  striving  for  ideals.  Peace 
of  mind  will  be  the  result  of  such  an  attitude  of  resignation 
(arapagia).  Carneades,  however,  holds  that  although  we  have 
no  criterion  for  knowing  the  nature  of  things,  we  have  sufficient 
certainty,  e.g.,  the  clearness  and  vividness  of  a  percept,  to  guide 
us  in  our  practical  behavior.  There  are  various  degrees  of 
probability ;  it  is  not  necessary,  therefore,  to  suspend  judgment. 
The  wise  man  will  assent  to  an  idea  according  to  its  degree  of 
probability;  he  will,  however,  always  remember  that  the  highest 
degree  of  probability  does  not  guarantee  truth.  This  view  of 
Carneades  led  to  eclecticism,  or  the  philosophy  of  common- 
sense. 

Carneades  attacks  the  system  of  the  Stoics,  endeavoring  to 
bring  out  the  contradictions  contained  in  it  and  to  show  the 
futility  of  all  knowledge.  He  repudiates  their  teleological  argu- 
ment for  the  existence  of  God  on  the  ground  that  the  world  is 
not  rational,  beautiful,  and  good;  even  if  it  were,  it  would  not 
prove  that  a  God  made  it.  Their  conception  of  God  or  the 
world-soul  is  criticised  on  the  ground  that  if  he  has  sensation 
or  feeling,  he  is  changeable,  and  that  a  changeable  God  cannot 
be  eternal.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  is  unchangeable,  he  is  a 
rigid,  lifeless  being.  Again,  if  God  is  corporeal,  he  is  changeable 
and  perishable;  if  he  is  incorporeal,  he  has  not  sensation  or 
feeling.  If  he  is  good,  he  is  determined  by  the  moral  law,  hence 
not  supreme ;  if  he  is  not  good,  he  is  inferior  to  men.  The  idea 
of  God  is  full  of  contradictions;  our  reason  cannot  grasp  him, 
knowledge  of  him  is,  therefore,  impossible. 


SKEPTICISM  AND  ECLECTICISM  119 

Philo  of  Larissa  declares  that,  though  the  Stoic  criterion  of 
truth  is  not  adequate,  it  does  not  follow  that  knowledge  is  im- 
possible. He  does  not  believe  that  either  Arcesilaus  or  Car- 
neades  ever  intended  to  deny  the  possibility  of  knowledge.  An- 
tiochus  abandons  skepticism  and  takes  up  eclecticism. 

The  skeptical  view  is  worked  out,  in  greater  detail,  by  the 
later  skeptics,  ^Enesidemus  and  Sextus.  Among  the  reasons 
given  by  ^Enesidemus  for  the  uncertainty  of  knowl- 
edge are  these  :  The  same  objects  seem  different  to 


different  beings,  to  different  persons,  to  the  same 
person,  to  different  senses,  to  the  same  sense  at  different  times 
and  under  different  conditions  of  the  subject  and  the  environ- 
ment. Every  sensation  is  conditioned  by  subjective  and  objective 
factors,  and  is  therefore  never  the  same.  Proofs  are  also  offered 
against  the  possibility  of  proof,  against  the  notion  of  cause  and 
effect,  and  against  the  arguments  for  the  existence  of  God. 

The  skeptical  movement  was  not  without  influence  on  the 
history  of  philosophy.  It  tended  to  weaken  the  extreme  dog- 
matism of  some  of  the  schools  and  induced  others  to  modify 
their  views.  By  pointing  out  the  differences  and  contradictions 
in  and  among  various  systems,  it  caused  thinkers  to  soften  the 
differences  and  to  emphasize  the  agreements,  and  to  select  from 
the  different  systems  what  appealed  to  their  common-sense.  In 
this  way  the  philosophical  movement  called  eclecticism  took  its 
rise. 

Eclecticism  was  also  encouraged  by  the  growing  intellectual  in- 
tercourse between  Greek  scholars  and  the  Romans.  The  Eomans 
had  no  genius  for  philosophy  ;  they  lacked  specula-  . 

tive  power  and  paid  little  attention  to  theories  of 
the  world  and  of  life.  It  was  not  until  Macedonia  was  conquered 
by  Rome  in  168  B.C.  and  Greece  became  a  Roman  province 
(146),  that  interest  arose  in  philosophical  reflection.  Greek 
teachers  came  to  Rome  and  young  Romans  attended  the  philo- 
sophical schools  in  Greece;  and  Greek  philosophy  began  to  be 
regarded  as  an  indispensable  part  of  higher  culture.  The  Roman 
thinkers,  however,  never  produced  an  independent  system  of 
thought  ;  they  were  eclectics,  taking  from  different  systems  what 
most  appealed  to  them.  Even  when  they  accepted  a  system  as 
a  whole,  they  modified  it  to  suit  their  taste.  They  had  no 


120  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

patience  with  subtleties,  sophistries,  and  paradoxes,  and  avoided 
the  hair-splittings  and  fine  distinctions  in  which  the  Greeks 
reveled;  nor  were  they  fond  of  controversies  and  disputations. 
They  were  not  profound  thinkers,  but  were  governed  by  com- 
mon-sense :  ' '  they  sought  and  found  in  philosophy, ' '  as  Denis  * 
says,  "  nothing  but  a  rule  of  conduct  and  a  means  of  govern- 
ment." 

Eclecticism  made  its  way  into  nearly  all  the  schools,  into  the  Acad- 
emy, the  Lyceum,  and  the  Stoa;  the  Epicureans  alone  remaining  true 
to  their  creed.  We  mention  among  its  representatives:  Antiochus,  of 
the  Newer  Academy;  Panaetius  (180-110  B.C.),  Posidonius  (+91  B.C.), 
of  the  Middle  Stoa;  Cicero  (106-43  B.C.),  the  school  founded  in  Rome 
by  Sextius  (born  70  B.C.),  L.  AnnaBus  Cornutus  (first  century  A.D.), 
L.  Annseus  Seneca  (3-65  A.D.),  C.  Musonius  Rufus  (first  century  A.D.). 


RELIGIOUS  MOVEMENT 

15.   JEWISH-GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

We  have  passed  in  review  the  different  philosophical  move- 
ments which  succeeded  the  great  systems  of  Plato  and  Aristotle, 
and  come  now  to  a  period  in  our  history  when 
(R°r  philosophy  seeks  refuge  in  religion.  Epicureanism, 

interpreting  the  world  as  a  machine,  advises  its 
followers  to  turn  it  to  their  use  and  to  derive  as  much  hap- 
piness from  it  as  they  can.  The  Stoics,  conceiving  it  as 
an  intelligent  teleological  system,  find  it  wise  to  subordi- 
nate themselves  to  the  universal  will  and  to  assist  in  realizing 
the  purpose  of  the  whole.  Skepticism,  refusing  to  give  any 
answer  whatever,  advises  the  abandonment  of  all  attempts  to 
understand  the  universe  and  recommends,  as  a  guide  in  practical 
matters,  the  following  of  nature,  custom,  and  probability.  Ec- 
lecticism, finally,  turns  its  attention  to  what  seems  good  in 
all  the  theories  that  have  been  offered,  and  endeavors  to  piece 
together  a  satisfactory  world-view  from  the  old  materials  at 
hand. 

These  philosophies,  however,  did  not  satisfy  all  types  of  mind. 
Some  temperaments  found  it  impossible  to  look  upon  the  world 
*  Hisioire  des  theories  et  des  idees  morales. 


JEWISH-GREEK  PHILOSOPHY  121 

as  a  mechanical  interplay  of  atoms  and  to  cease  from  troubling 
about  God.  Nor  were  they  able,  by  silencing  their  yearnings 
and  resigning  themselves  to  the  universal  will,  to  find  peace 
and  power  "  within  their  own  pure  hearts."  And  in  spite 
of  the  Skeptics,  they  did  not  succeed  in  rooting  out  the  desire 
for  certain  knowledge  of  God;  they  refused  to  surrender  them- 
selves to  the  fate  of  blindness — they  longed  not  only  to  know 
but  to  see  God.  Zeller  characterizes  the  period  we  have  reached 
in  the  following  words:  "  The  feeling  of  estrangement  from 
God,  the  yearning  for  a  higher  revelation,  is  characteristic  of 
the  last  centuries  of  the  old  world.  This  yearning  expresses 
nothing  less  than  the  consciousness  of  the  decline  of  the  classical 
peoples  and  their  culture,  and  the  premonition  of  the  approach- 
ing new  era;  it  brought  to  life  not  only  Christianity,  but,  even 
before  its  advent,  pagan  and  Jewish  Alexandrianism  and  its 
kindred  phenomena."* 

This  attitude  gave  rise  to  a  philosophy  strongly  tinctured  with 
religious  mysticism;  and  Greek  thought,  gathering  together  the 
achievements  of  its  intellectual  history,  ended,  as  it  began,  in 
religion.  The  religious  movement  was  encouraged  by  the  con- 
tact of  Greek  speculation  with  the  Egyptian,  Chaldaean,  and, 
particularly,  Jewish  religions.  The  cosmopolitan  city  of  Alex- 
andria, in  Egypt,  furnished  the  favorable  physical  medium  for 
bringing  the  two  forces  together.  We  may  distinguish  three 
currents  in  this  religious  philosophy:  (1)  An  attempt  to  combine 
an  Oriental  religion  (Judaism)  with  Greek  speculation :  Jewish- 
Greek  philosophy;  (2)  an  attempt  to  construct  a  world-religion 
upon  Pythagorean  doctrines:  Neopythagoreanism ;  (3)  an  at- 
tempt to  make  a  religious  philosophy  of  the  Platonic  teaching: 
Neoplatonism.  Common  to  all  these  theologies,  or  theosophies, 
are :  the  conception  of  God  as  a  transcendent  being,  the  dualism 
of  God  and  world,  the  idea  of  revealed  and  mystical  knowledge 
of  God,  asceticism  and  world-denial,  the  belief  in  intermediary 
beings,  demons,  and  angels.  Some  of  these  elements  were  char- 
acteristic of  the  Jewish  religion,  as  it  appeared  at  the  time  we 
have  reached  (monotheism,  dualism,  revelation  and  prophecy, 
angelology),  and  it,  therefore,  readily  lent  itself  to  an  amalga- 
mation (syncretism)  with  certain  Greek  systems  of  thought 
•Zeller,  The  Philosophy  of  the  Greeks,  Part  III,  vol.  II. 


122  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

All  the  systems  represent  a  union  of  Hellenistic  and  Oriental 
culture:  in  Neoplatonism  the  Greek  element  predominates,  in 
the  Jewish-Greek  philosophy  Orientalism  is  strongest. 

See  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals,  vol.  I;  Cumont,  Oriental 
Religions  in  Roman  Paganism;  Gibbon,  Decline  and  Fall  of  Roman 
Empire. 

Alexandria,  which  was  founded  by  Alexander  the  Great,  333 
B.C.,  became,  under  the  rule  (323-181)  of  the  descendants  of  his 
general  Ptolemy,  the  leading  commercial  and  in- 
Beginnings  of  tellectual  city  of  the  world,  and  the  chief  meeting- 
Place  °^  Hellenic  and  Oriental  civilization.  Here 
a  great  scientific  Museum  with  its  celebrated 
library  (700,000  volumes)  was  established,  under  Ptolemy  II 
(285-247),  which  attracted  poets,  men  of  science,  and  philoso- 
phers from  every  region  of  the  classical  world.*  Here,  under 
Ptolemy  II,  the  sacred  Jewish  Scriptures  were  translated  into 
Greek  (the  Septuagint)  for  the  benefit  of  the  large  Jewish  popu- 
lation who  had  forgotten  their  mother-tongue.  The  Greek  influ- 
ence on  Jewish  thought  was,  however,  not  limited  to  Alexandria, 
but  extended  to  Palestine  itself,  as  we  know  from  the  efforts 
made  by  King  Antiochus  IV  to  hellenize  the  Jews  and  from 
the  encouragement  he  received  from  the  educated  classes  of 
Jerusalem. 

The  first  direct  trace  of  the  union  of  Jewish  and  Greek  ideas 
is  found  in  a  treatise  by  a  Peripatetic  Jew  named  Aristobulus 
(about  150  B.C.),  who  wrote  a  commentary  on  the  Pentateuch. 
He  tried  to  show  a  harmony  between  the  teachings  of  the  Old 
Testament  and  the  Greek  philosophers,  and  asserted  that  the 
Greeks  (Orpheus,  Homer,  Hesiod,  Pythagoras,  and  Plato)  had 
drawn  upon  the  Jewish  Scriptures  for  their  knowledge.  In  sup- 
port of  his  position  he  appealed  to  a  number  of  verses  in  the 
Greek  poets,  which  were  afterward  proved  to  be  forgeries.  He  also 
attempted  to  get  rid  of  the  anthropomorphism  in  the  Scriptures 
by  means  of  allegorical  interpretations  (after  the  fashion  of 

*  Among  them :  the  poets  Callimachus,  Theocritus,  and  Apollonius  of 
Rhodes;  Euclid  the  mathematician;  the  astronomers  Apollonius  of  Perga, 
Arystillus,  Timocharus,  and  Ptolemy,  the  author  of  the  Almagest  and  the 
geocentric  or  Ptolemaic  theory  of  the  heavens;  and  the  geographer 
Eratosthenes. 


JEWISH-GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 


123 


the  Stoics),  aiming  to  reconcile  it  with  Hellenic  thought.  God 
is  conceived  as  a  transcendent  being;  invisible;  no  mortal  soul 
ever  beheld  him,  he  is  visible  only  to  pure  intelligence  (vovs). 
The  world-soul  (of  the  Stoics)  is  not  God  himself,  but  the  divine 
Power  that  governs  all  things.  The  influence  of  Aristotle  and 
the  Stoics  is  plainly  noticeable  here.  Traces  of  Greek  philosophy 
are  found  in  other  Jewish  writings,  e.g.,  in  the  work  called 
Wisdom  of  Solomon,  in  the  Book  of  Maccabees,  Sibylline  Ora- 
cles, and  Wisdom  of  Sirach. 

These  tendencies  culminate  in  the  system  of  Philo,  an  Alex- 
andrian Jew  of  priestly  family,  who  was  born  30  B.C.  and  died 
50  A.D.  He  wrote  historical,  political,  ethical,  and 
exegetical  works,  of  which  many  are  extant.  Ac- 
cording to  Philo,  Judaism  is  the  sum-total  of  human  wisdom. 
One  and  the  same  Reason  speaks  in  Greek  philosophers,  Pythag- 
oras and  Plato,  and  in  the  inspired  teachings  of  Moses  and  the 
Prophets ;  to  prove  this,  Philo  read  Greek  philosophy,  especially 
Platonism  and  Stoicism,  into  the  Scriptures  by  means  of  the 
allegorical  method  which  was  in  common  use  at  Alexandria. 
Adam  stands  for  spirit  or  mind,  Eve  for  sensuality,  Jacob  for 
asceticism,  and  so  on. 

New  edition  of  Philo's  works  by  Wendland  and  Cohn;  translation 
of  works  by  Yonge,  4  vols. 

Drummond,  Philo- Judceus;  Conybeare,  Philo;  Schiirer,  History  of 
the  Jewish  People;  Pfleiderer,  History  of  Philosophy  of  Religion; 
Heinze,  Lehre  vom  Logos;  Reville,  Le  logos;  Arnim,  Quellenstudien  zu 
Philon;  Falter,  Philon  und  Plotin. 

The  fundamental  conception  in  the  system  of  Philo  is  the 
idea  of  God.  God  is  an  absolutely  transcendent  being,  so  far 
above  us  that  we  cannot  comprehend  him  or  define  him,  the 
ineffable  one,  who  is  higher  than  knowledge,  virtue,  and  the 
highest  good.  We  know  that  he  is,  not  what  he  is ;  we  are  imme- 
diately certain  of  his  existence,  knowing  him  through  our  high- 
est reason  or  pure  intelligence  (rovS).  His  existence  can, 
however,  also  be  proved.  He  is  the  ground  and  source  of  every- 
thing; everything  is  contained  in  him.  He  is  absolute  power, 
absolute  perfection,  absolute  goodness,  absolute  blessedness,  and 
pure  mind,  intelligence,  or  reason.  God  is  too  exalted  to  come 
in  contact  with  impure  matter.  In  order  to  explain  his  action 


124  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

on  the  world,  Philo  assumes  intermediate  powers  or  instruments, 
making  use  of  the  Jewish  notion  of  angels  and  demons,  and  of 
the  Greek  conception  of  the  world-soul  and  ideas.  Sometimes 
he  describes  these  powers  as  properties  of  God,  as  ideas  or 
thoughts  of  God,  as  parts  of  the  universal  power  or  reason, 
sometimes  as  messengers  or  servants  of  God,  as  souls,  angels, 
or  demons;  thinking  at  times  in  terms  of  Greek  philosophy,  at 
others  in  terms  of  the  Jewish  religion.  All  such  powers  he 
combines  into  one,  the  Logos,  the  Divine  Reason  or  Wisdom. 
(We  conceive  the  Logos  through  the  logos  in  ourselves,  which  is 
a  second  faculty  of  knowledge,  different  from  pure  intelligence 
or  vovt.)  It  is  the  container  or  place  of  all  ideas  (as  the  soul 
of  the  builder  contains  the  plan  of  the  city),  the  power  of  all 
powers,  the  highest  of  the  angels,  the  first-born  Son  of  God, 
the  image  of  God,  the  second  God,  the  God-man,  the  heavenly 
Adam.  In  fact,  Philo 's  Logos  is  the  Stoic  world-soul,  the  former 
of  the  world,  the  pattern  of  the  universe,  or  the  Platonic  world 
of  ideas,  made  into  a  being  intermediate  between  God  and  the 
world.  Sometimes  he  speaks  of  this  principle  as  a  radiation  of 
the  divine  light,  a  conception  which  faintly  anticipates  the 
emanation-theory  of  Plotinus.  Whether  or  not  the  Logos  is  to 
be  conceived  as  a  person,  is  left  uncertain. 

The  Logos  is  the  wisdom  and  power  and  goodness  of  God 
substantialized,  or  conceived  as  an  entity  distinct  from  him.  In 
order  that  it  may  have  something  to  act  upon,  another  principle 
is  brought  in :  quality -less  matter  or  a  mass  occupying  space,  of 
which  God  is  the  cause.  From  this  chaotic  mass,  and  using  the 
Logos  as  his  organ,  God  fashioned  the  world  of  visible  things, 
which  are  the  images  or  copies  of  ideas.  We  know  the  sensible 
images  of  the  Logos,  or  the  world  of  sense,  through  sense- 
perception,  which  is  a  third  faculty  of  knowledge  in  man.  The 
world  has  had  a  beginning  in  time,  but  has  no  end  (Jewish  con- 
ception of  creation).  Time  and  space  were  created  when  the 
world  was  created.  Since  the  Logos  is  perfect  and  good,  the 
defects  and  evils  of  the  world  must  owe  their  origin  to  matter. 

Man,  like  the  universe,  is  soul  and  matter ;  he  is  the  microcosm, 
the  most  important  piece  of  creation.  But  pure  thought  (rovt) 
constitutes  his  chief  essence.  The  body  and  the  irrational  part 
of  the  soul  belong  to  the  world  of  matter;  the  ruling  part  con- 


NEOPLATONISM  125 

sists  of  desire,  courage,  and  reason  (logos).  The  incorporeal 
mind  or  pure  intelligence  is  added  to  the  soul  from  above ;  this 
makes  man  an  image  of  God.  The  body  is  the  source  of  evil 
in  man;  the  incorporation  of  souls  is  a  fall:  by  its  union  with 
the  body  the  soul  becomes  predisposed  to  evil  (original  sin). 
If  the  fallen  souls  fail  to  free  themselves  from  sense,  they  enter 
other  mortal  bodies.  Although  human  intelligence  is  in  con- 
stant connection  with  the  divine  mind,  according  to  Philo,  it  is 
nevertheless  free  to  declare  for  or  against  God,  free  to  lose 
itself  in  sensuality  or  to  rise  above  it ;  how  this  is  possible,  we 
are  not  told.  Man  should  deliver  himself  from  his  body,  the 
evil  principle  in  him,  eradicate  his  passions  and  all  sensuality, 
by  theoretical  contemplation  (asceticism).  But  we  cannot  do 
this  unaided,  we  are  too  weak  for  that,  too  sinful ;  we  need  help, 
divine  help.  God  must  illuminate  us,  penetrate  our  souls.  ' '  The 
sun  of  consciousness  must  set."  This  is  ecstasy.  In  this  state 
we  immediately  apprehend  God,  plunge  ourselves  into  the  pure 
source  of  being,  see  God  (mysticism). 

16.   NEOPLATONISM 

Pythagoras  lived  in  the  sixth  century  B.C.  The  object  of  his 
teaching  was  chiefly  ethical,  political,  and  religious;  it  aimed 
at  an  ethical-religious  reform.  After  his  death, 

the  practical  phases  of  his  doctrine  survived,  par-  Ne°Pytliag0- 

reanism 
ticularly  in  Italy,  but  the  school,  as  a  philosophical 

organization,  died  in  the  fourth  century.  Plato  absorbed  the 
Pythagorean  number-theory  and  the  religious-mystical  elements, 
during  his  old  age,  and  his  immediate  successors  in  the  school  em- 
phasized these  latter-day  teachings  of  the  master.  With  the  rise  of 
Aristotelianism  and  the  later  Greek  systems,  the  Academy  aban- 
doned Pythagoreanism  as  its  official  creed.  The  Pythagorean 
secret  societies,  however,  with  their  mysteries,  continued  to  lead  a 
somewhat  precarious  existence  until  the  religious  yearning  which 
took  possession  of  the  Roman  world,  in  the  first  century  B.C., 
revived  them  and  the  spirit  of  the  times  encouraged  them  to 
devote  themselves  once  more  to  philosophy.  The  leaders  in  this 
movement,  however,  did  not  go  back  to  the  Pythagoreanism  of 
the  early  days;  they  took  the  doctrine  as  it  appeared  in  Pla- 


126  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

tonism,  and  combined  it,  in  the  eclectic  fashion  of  the  age,  with 
other  Greek  theories.  Pythagoras  came  to  be  regarded  as  the 
source  of  divinely  revealed  knowledge.  Whatever  the  Neopytha- 
goreans  accepted  as  truth,  and  whatever  appealed  to  them  in 
the  writings  of  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  the  Stoics,  they  naively 
ascribed  to  the  great  teacher  whose  personality  and  work  had 
been  surrounded  with  the  nimbus  of  mystery. 

Among  the  names  to  be  mentioned  here  are  those  of  P.  Nigidius 
Figulus,  Sotion  the  pupil  of  Sextius,  Apollonius  of  Tyana,  Moderatus, 
of  the  first  century  A.D.,  and  Nicomachus  and  Philostratus  of  the 
second  century.  Apollonius  declared  Pythagoras  to  be  the  world- 
savior,  while  Philostratus  gives  this  title  to  Apollonius  himself.  The 
Neopythagorean  movement  also  influenced  many  Platonists,  e.g.,  Plu- 
tarch of  Cha3ronea  (50-125),  Maximus  of  Tyre,  Apuleius  (born  around 
126-132),  the  physician  Galen  (second  century),  Celsus,  Numenius,  and 
others. 

Translation  of  Philostratus,  Life  of  Apollonius,  1903.  Works  on 
Apollonius  by  F.  Campbell,  Whittaker,  Mead. 

The  attempts  to  construct  a  religious  philosophy  on  the  basis 
of  Greek  thought  culminate  in  Neoplatonism.  Plato's  system 

becomes  the  framework  for  a  religious  world-view, 
Neoplatonism  ,  ,  .  ,  ... 

or  theosophy,  which  utilizes  whatever  seems  valu- 
able in  the  other  theories,  especially  in  Peripatetic  and  Stoic 
speculation,  in  an  independent  manner.  God  is  conceived  as 
the  source  and  goal  of  everything;  from  him  everything  comes, 
to  him  all  things  return ;  he  is  the  alpha  and  omega,  the  begin- 
ning, middle,  and  end.  Communion  with  God  or  absorption  in 
God,  therefore,  is  the  real  object  of  all  our  strivings,  and  reli- 
gion the  heart-beat  of  the  universe. 

A  number  of  stages  may  be  distinguished  in  the  school:  (1) 
The  Alexandrian-Roman  school,  to  which  belong:  Ammonius 
Saccas  (175-242  A.D.),  the  founder,  'who  left  no  writings; 
Plotinus  (204-269),  who  develops  the  system;  and  Porphyry 
(232-304),  his  pupil;  (2)  The  Syrian  school,  represented  by 
Jamblichus  (+330);  and  (3)  The  Athenian  school,  of  which 
Plutarch  the  younger  (350-433)  and  Proclus  (411-485)  are  the 
chief  figures. 

A.  Harnack,  article  on  "  Neoplatonism "  in  Britannica,  and  History 
of  the  Dogma;  Bigg,  Neoplatonism,  and  Christian  Platonists  of  Alex- 
andria; Whittaker,  The  Neoplatonists;  R.  M.  Jones,  Studies  in  Mys- 


NEOPLATONISM  127 

tical  Eeligion;  Hatch,  cited  p.  105;  Dill,  Roman  Society  from  Nero 
to  Marcus  Aurelius;  A.  Drews,  Plotinus  und  der  Untergang  der  antiken 
Weltanschauung;  works  of  Susemihl  and  Heinze,  cited  p.  105;  Matter, 
Simon,  Vacherot;  also  works  on  p.  123. 

Plotinus  was  born  in  Lycopolis,  Egypt,  in  204,  and  studied  philosophy 
under  Ammonius  Saccas  in  Alexandria  for  eleven  years.     In  243  he 
went  to  Rome,  where  he  established  a  school;  but  he 
did  not  put  his  philosophy  in  writing  until  he  was  fifty   Plotinus 
years  old.     After  his  death  (269),  his  pupil  Porphyry 
revised  and  published  his  manuscripts,  with  a  biography  of  his  teacher, 
arranging  them  in  six  Enneads,  or  series  of  nine  writings  each.    This 
work  has  come  down  to  us. 

Edition  of  works  by  Volkmann ;  translations  of  selections  by  Thomas 
Taylor,  now  in  Bohn  Library. 

God  is  the  source  of  all  existence,  of  all  oppositions  and  differ- 
ences, of  mind  and  body,  form  and  matter,  but  is  himself  devoid 
of  all  opposition  and  difference,  absolutely  one,  one  in  the  sense 
of  excluding  all  plurality  and  diversity.  He  is  the  One  that 
contains  everything, — infinity,  the  first  causeless  cause, — from 
which  everything  is  produced,  from  which  everything  emanates; 
for  plurality  always  presupposes  unity;  unity  is  prior  to  all 
being  and  beyond  all  being.  He  is  so  transcendent  that  what- 
ever we  say  of  him  merely  limits  him ;  hence  we  cannot  attribute 
to  him  beauty  or  goodness  or  thought  or  will,  for  all  such  attri- 
butes are  limitations  and  really  imperfections.  We  cannot  say 
what  he  is,  but  only  what  he  is  not.  We  cannot  define  him  as 
being,  for  being  is  thinkable,  and  what  is  thinkable  implies 
subject  and  object,  and  is,  therefore,  a  limitation.  He  is  higher 
than  beauty,  truth,  goodness,  consciousness,  and  will,  for  all  of 
these  depend  on  him.  We  cannot  conceive  him  as  thinking, 
because  this  implies  a  thinker  and  a  thought;  even  a  self- 
conscious  being,  who  thinks  himself,  divides  into  subject  and 
object.  To  say  that  God  thinks  and  wills  is  to  limit  him  by 
what  he  thinks  and  wills,  and,  therefore,  to  rob  him  of  his 
independence. 

Although  the  world  is  from  God,  he  did  not  create  it,  for 
creation  implies  consciousness  and  will,  or  limitation,  and  God 
did  not  decide  to  create  a  world.  Nor  is  the  world  an  evolution 
from  God,  for  God  is  the  most  perfect.  The  universe  is  an 
emanation  from  God.  an  inevitable  overflow  of  his  infinite  power 


128  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

or  actuality.  Plotinus  employs  several  similes  to  make  his  mean- 
ing clear.  God  is  an  infinite  spring  from  which  the  stream 
flows  without  exhausting  its  infinite  source;  or,  God  is  the  sun 
from  which  the  light  radiates  without  loss  to  the  sun.  He  uses 
these  illustrations  to  indicate  the  absolute  power  and  independ- 
ence of  the  first  principle.  The  cause  does  not  pass  over  into, 
or  lose  itself  in,  its  effect;  the  effect  does  not  limit  the  cause; 
the  effect  is  non-essential  so  far  as  God  is  concerned.  The  world 
depends  on  God,  but  he  does  not  depend  on  the  world.  The  ani- 
mal continues  as  it  was,  after  having  given  birth  to  offspring. 

The  farther  we  are  from  the  sun,  the  nearer  we  are  to  dark- 
ness (matter).  Creation  is  a  fall  from  the  perfect  to  the  im- 
perfect. The  farther  down  we  go  in  the  scale  of  being,  the 
greater  imperfection,  plurality,  change,  and  separation  we  find. 
Every  later  stage  is  the  necessary  effect  of  the  preceding  one, — 
its  copy,  its  shadow,  its  accident.  But  every  later  stage  also 
strives  for  the  higher,  turns  back  to  its  source,  finds  its  purpose 
or  goal  in  that  which  went  before. 

Different  stages  may  be  distinguished  in  the  process  of  ema- 
nation: pure  thought  or  mind  (rovS)t  soul,  and  matter.  On 
the  first  stage,  God's  being  divides  into  thought 

and  ideas'  that  is'   God  thinks  th(mgnts>  he  con- 
templates  the  pure  ideal  cosmos  (xoff^ioZ  vorjroS). 

Thought  and  its  ideas,  subject  and  object,  are,  however,  one  at 
this  stage,  not  separate  in  time  or  space:  in  the  divine  mind 
the  thinker  and  his  thoughts  are  one  and  the  same.  This  is  as 
it  should  be  if  God's  thinking  is  to  be  perfect  truth,  for  truth 
implies  the  oneness  of  thought  and  its  object.  God  thinks  his 
own  thoughts,  which  flow  from  his  very  essence:  in  the  divine 
mind  the  activity  of  thought,  the  thinker,  and  the  thought  are 
one  and  the  same,  not  separate.  His  thought  is  not  discursive, 
passing  from  idea  to  idea,  from  premise  to  conclusion,  but  in- 
tuitive, static,  as  it  were,  contemplating  the  system  of  ideas  as 
a  whole,  and  all  at  once.  There  are  many  ideas, — as  many  as 
there  are  particular  things  in  the  phenomenal  world, — and  they 
differ  from  one  another,  but  they  form  a  unified  system,  as  with 
Plato.  The  absolute  unity  of  the  first  principle  (God)  is  re- 
flected in  this  system  of  many  different  ideas. 

For  each  particular  object  in  the   sense-world,   there  is  an 


NEOPLATONISM  129 

idea  in  the  mind  of  God.  Hence,  pure  thought  is  the  pattern 
or  model  of  the  phenomenal  world ;  it  is  a  spaceless  and  timeless, 
a  perfect,  eternal,  and  harmonious  intelligible  world.  But  it  is 
not  merely  a  pattern ;  the  ideas  are  efficient  causes ;  every  stage 
in  the  process  of  emanation  is,  as  we  have  seen,  the  cause  of 
the  succeeding  one. 

The  soul  (tyvxrf)  is  the  second  stage  in  the  divine  emanation, 
and  proceeds  from  pure  thought;  wherever  there  are  ideas  or 
purposes,  they  must  seek  to  realize  themselves,  to  produce  some- 
thing. It  is  the  effect,  image,  or  copy  of  pure  thought,  and,  like 
an  effect  or  copy,  less  perfect  than  the  original.  It  is  super- 
sensuous  or  intelligible;  it  is  active  and  has  ideas;  it  possesses 
the  power  of  thought,  though  in  less  complete  form  than  pure 
thought,  being  discursive;  it  is  self-conscious,  though  beyond 
the  need  of  perception  and  memory.  There  are  two  phases  of 
the  soul:  it  is  turned  in  the  direction  of  pure  thought,  and  it 
is  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  world  of  sense;  in  the  former 
case,  it  acts  as  thought:  it  contemplates  pure  ideas;  in  the 
latter,  it  is  impelled  to  bring  order  into  matter:  it  has  desire. 
The  first  phase  Plotinus  calls  the  world-soul,  the  second  phase 
he  calls  nature;  and  sometimes  he  speaks  as  if  there  were  two 
such  wrorld-souls :  the  second  emanating  from  the  first  like  a  ray 
of  light,  and  constituting  the  unconscious  soul  of  corporeal  exist- 
ence. As  soul  having  ideas,  looking  mind- ward,  it  is  indivisible ; 
as  soul  with  the  desire  to  animate  the  objects  of  the  phenomenal 
world,  it  is  capable  of  division. 

But  the  soul  cannot  realize  its  desire  to  exercise  its  powers,  to 
act  and  to  form,  without  something  to  act  on;  it  produces 
matter.  Matter,  as  such,  has  neither  form,  quality,  power,  nor 
unity;  it  is  absolute  impotence  and  privation,  the  principle  of 
evil.  It  is  farthest  removed  from  God;  there  is  no  trace  in  it 
of  God,  it  is  darkness.  We  can  form  no  image  of  it;  all  we 
can  do  is  to  assume  it  as  the  necessary  substrate  behind  the 
phenomena  of  changing  qualities,  as  that  which  persists  in  our 
passing  world  of  sense.  Upon  this  matter  the  efficient  powers 
or  souls  which  are  contained  in  the  world-soul  and  identical  with 
its  ideas,  act,  fashioning  it  into  a  sensuous  image  or  copy  of  the 
intelligible  world  contained  in  the  divine  intelligence.  These  par- 
ticular powers  or  souls  which  impress  themselves  upon  matter, 


130  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

as  it  were,  thus  producing  particular  sensible  objects  in  space 
and  in  time,  are  themselves  all  comprehended  in  the  indivisible 
world-soul;  neither  they  nor  the  world-soul  exist  in  space  or  are 
spread  out;  the  spatial  arrangement  of  objects  is  due  solely  to 
the  matter  in  them.  The  beauty,  order,  and  unity  of  the  phe- 
nomenal universe  are  due  to  the  world-soul,  which  harks  back 
to  God. 

Plotinus  conceives  the  emanation  of  the  world  from  the  world- 
soul  as  a  necessary  consequence  of  its  nature,  not  as  a  process 
that  has  begun  in  time,  in  response,  say,  to  an  act  of  will. 
The  three  stages:  the  emanation  of  the  world-soul,  the  creation 
of  matter,  the  forming  of  matter  into  bodies,  constitute  one  proc- 
ess, which  abstract  thought  can  analyze  into  three  phases,  but 
which  are  one  eternal  and  indivisible  act.  With  Aristotle,  there- 
fore, Plotinus  teaches  the  eternity  of  the  universe.  At  the  same 
time,  he  tells  us  that  matter  can  receive  its  forms  only  succes- 
sively, and  that  the  world-soul  creates  time  in  order  that  it  may 
operate.  He  likewise  accepts  the  Stoic  doctrine  of  periodical 
recurrence.  How  these  views  are  to  be  reconciled,  he  does  not 
say:  the  general  thought  he  seeks  to  impress  is  that  the  world 
has  always  been  and  always  will  be,  and  that  the  world  of  sense, 
as  a  whole,  is  eternal,  though  its  parts  change. 

The  soul  of  man  is  a  part  of  the  world-soul,  and  as  such  super- 
sensuous  and  free.  Originally,  before  its  incorporation,  it  con- 
templated the  eternal  vov?  in  mystical  intuition, 
Human  Soul  .,.,-,  ^  -,  -,  ,  .  .. 

it  pointed  God-ward  and  knew  the  good;  but  it 

turned  its  gaze  earth-ward,  body-ward,  and  so  fell.  This  fall 
is  in  part  the  necessary  consequence  of  the  world-soul's  desire 
to  fashion  matter,  partly  the  result  of  an  irresistible  impulse 
for  a  life  of  sense  on  the  part  of  the  particular  soul  itself.  In 
this  way  the  soul  has  lost  its  original  freedom,  for  its  freedom 
consists  in  turning  in  the  other  direction,  away  from  sensuality, 
in  accordance  with  its  higher  nature.  If  it  fails  to  do  this, 
that  is,  if  it  remains  steeped  in  the  bodily  life,  it  becomes 
attached  to  another  human,  animal,  or  plant  body  after  death, 
according  to  the  degree  of  its  guilt.  The  part  of  the  soul  which 
radiates  into  the  material  body,  however,  is  not  the  real  self, 
but  merely  a  shadow  of  it,  the  irrational,  animal  part  of  the 
soul,  the  seat  of  the  appetites  and  sense-perception,  the  source 


NEOPLATONISM  131 

of  sin  and  even  of  virtue.  The  true  self  consists  of  thought 
(vov?)  and  logos;  it  can  realize  its  mission  only  by  turning 
from  the  sensuous  life  to  thought,  and,  through  it,  to  God.  But 
this  return  to  God  is  possible  in  this  earthly  life  only  on  rare 
occasions. 

In  order  to  reach  the  goal,  the  ordinary  virtues  of  the  phi- 
losophers will  not  suffice.  Moderation  of  impulses  is  not 
enough,  the  soul  must  purge  itself  of  all  sensu-  . 

ality,  free  itself  from  the  contamination   of  the      y 


body  (KaSapffiS).  There  is,  however,  a  still  higher  stage  to 
be  reached  than  purification  :  this  is  only  a  preparation  for  theo- 
retical contemplation,  or  the  immediate  intuition  of  ideas  ;  theory 
is  superior  to  practice,  because  it  brings  us  nearer  to  the  vision 
of  God.  The  highest  stage,  however,  union  with  God,  cannot  be 
realized  even  by  thought  of  this  exalted  kind  ;  it  is  possible  only 
in  a  state  of  ecstasy  (sxffTaffi?),  in  which  the  soul  transcends  its 
own  thought,  loses  itself  in  the  soul  of  God,  becomes  one  with 
God.  This  is  the  mystical  return  to  God. 

This  system  is  a  combination  of  Greek  philosophy  and  Ori- 
ental religion.  It  is  theistic  in  teaching  a  transcendent  God,  pan- 
theistic in  conceiving  everything,  down  to  the  lowest  matter,  as 
an  emanation  of  God.  It  is  religious  idealism  :  the  final  goal  of 
the  soul  is  to  find  rest  in  the  mind  of  God,  and  though  this  is 
impossible  of  attainment  in  this  life,  man  should  prepare  for 
it  by  keeping  his  mind  on  God,  by  freeing  himself  from  the 
shackles  of  sense. 

Plotinus  does  not  reject  polytheism  ;  gods,  too,  are  manifesta- 
tions of  the  Divine.  He  also  believed  in  the  existence  of  good 
and  evil  demons  in  the  sublunary  regions,  and  in  the  possi- 
bility of  psychic  action  in  the  distance  :  the  entire  universe  being 
spiritual,  it  seemed  natural  that  spirits  should  act  upon  one 
another  sympathetically.  Many  of  his  successors  exaggerated 
these  superstitions,  defended  the  popular  polytheism,  attacked 
the  Christian  religion,  and  reveled  in  magic  and  theurgy. 

Porphyry  of  Tyre   (232-304),  the  pupil  of  Plotinus,  published  the 
writings  of  his   teacher   with   an   account   of  his   life. 
His    object    was    to    give    an    exposition    of    the    phi-  Porphyry 
losophy    of   Plotinus   rather   than    to    develop    it.     He   of  Tyre 
lays  greater  emphasis  than  the  master  on  asceticism  and 
the  popular  religion  as  means  of  purification,  and  accepts  all  kinds  of 


132  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

superstitious  beliefs  and  practices  (demonology,  prophecy,  idolatry, 
magic,  and  theurgy)  for  the  same  reason.  He  also  wrote  a  biography 
of  Pythagoras,  commentaries  on  some  of  Plato's  and  Aristotle's  works, 
an  Introduction  to  the  Categories  (of  Aristotle),  an  outline  of  the 
philosophy  of  Plotinus,  a  Letter  to  Anebo  on  Demons,  and  fifteen 
books  Against  the  Christians.  The  Introduction,  which  played  an  im- 
portant role  in  the  philosophy  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  Outline  (in 
Latin  translation),  the  biographies  of  Plotinus  and  Pythagoras,  the 
Letter,  the  fragments  of  a  small  commentary,  are  still  extant. 

Jamblichus  of  Chalcis  (+330),  who  is  a  follower  of  Neopythagorean- 
ism  as  well  as  of  Neoplatonism,  makes  use  of  philosophy  largely  as  a 

defense  and  proof  of  his  polytheistic  religion.  Super- 
Jamblichus  stition  plays  a  still  greater  role  in  his  doctrines  than 

in  those  of  Porphyry.  Among  his  writings  are:  On  the 
Pythagorean  Life,  Exhortation  to  Philosophy,  and  commentaries  on 
Plato  and  Aristotle. 

Among  the  followers  of  Jamblichus  were  Julian  the  Apostate  (Em- 
peror from  361-363),  who  attempted  to  restore  the  old  religion;  The- 
odorus  of  Asine;  Themistius,  an  excellent  commentator  of  Plato  and 
Aristotle;  Macrobius;  Olympiodorus ;  and  Hypatia,  who  was  put  to 
death  by  Christians  in  Alexandria  (415),  an  able  expositor  of  the 
works  of  Plato  and  Aristotle.  One  of  her  pupils  was  Synesius,  who 
later  became  a  Christian  bishop. 

Neoplatonism  was  revived  in  the  fifth  century  by  Proclus  (410-485), 
the  head  of  the  Academy  at  Athens.  He  was  succeeded  by  Marius, 

Isidorus,  and  Damascius.  In  529  the  school  at  Athens 
Close  of  was  closed  by  an  edict  of  the  Emperor  Justinian,  and 

School  at  the  history  of  Greek  philosophy  came  to  an  official  end. 

Athens  After  this  time,  some  good  commentaries  on  the  writings 

of  Plato  and  Aristotle  were  published  by  Simplicius, 
the  younger  Olympiodorus,  Boethius,  the  author  of  the  well-known 
Consolations,  and  Philoponus.  The  works  of  Boethius  as  well  as  his 
translations  of  Aristotelian  writings  and  of  Porphyry's  Introduction 
contributed  largely  to  the  knowledge  of  Greek  philosophy  in  the  early 
Middle  Ages  (see  p.  163). 

But  there  was  no  more  life  in  this  philosophy,  its  efforts  to  resuscitate 
the  old  polytheism  and  to  save  the  old  civilization  were  vain ;  it  had 
outlived  its  usefulness.  The  future  belonged  to  the  new  religion  against 
which  it  was  so  bitterly  contending;  and,  by  a  strange  irony  of  fate, 
this  new  religion,  in  its  attempt  to  conquer  the  intellectual  world,  made' 
an  ally  of  the  philosophy  of  the  Greeks. 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

RISE  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY 
17.    BEGINNINGS  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

We  have  traced  the  development  of  Greek  philosophy  from 
its  mythological  beginnings  down  to  its  decline  into  theosophical 
speculations  and  fantastic  cultus.  We  found  it 
turning,  at  the  end,  to  ethical  and  theological  dis- 
cussions,  to  the  problem  of  man's  origin  and 
destiny,  his  relation  to  God  and  the  world,  his  fall  and  his 
deliverance  from  sin.  The  interest  in  such  questions  grew  in- 
tense during  the  days  of  the  Roman  Empire,  not  only  among 
philosophers,  but  among  the  educated  classes  in  general,  as  the 
great  popularity  of  the  Oriental  religions  and  of  the  systems 
of  thought  influenced  by  them  plainly  shows.  But  the  Greek 
mind  had  lost  its  originality  and  vigor,  and  it  was  impossible 
u  to  revive  the  corpse  of  philosophy  by  breathing  into  it  the 
spirit  of  Orientalism." 

During  the  last  period  of  Hellenic  speculation,  a  new  religion 
which  possessed  many  elements  to  recommend  it  to  the  times, 
was  making  converts  in  the  Roman  world.  This  re-  . 
ligion,  which  had  sprung  from  the  soil  of  Judaism, 
preached  the  gospel  of  a  father-God  who  is  merciful  and  just  and 
loves  all  his  children  alike,  and  promised  the  redemption  of 
mankind  through  Jesus  Christ,  his  Son.  It  taught  that  no  man 
was  too  lowly  to  be  saved,  that  there  was  hope  for  all,  that  Christ 
would  come  again  to  establish  his  kingdom,  first  on  earth  and 
then  in  heaven,  but,  whether  on  earth  or  in  heaven,  it  would  be 
a  kingdom  of  righteousness  and  love.  It  taught  that,  on  the 
judgment  day,  the  wicked,  rich  and  powerful  though  they  might 
be,  would  be  confounded,  and  the  pure  in  heart,  however  poor 
and  lowly,  would  enter  into  glory.  In  offering  deliverance  from 
the  sinful  world  and  a  future  life  of  blessedness,  Christianity 

188 


134  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

struck  a  popular  chord  and  satisfied  a  longing  of  the  age.  The 
conditions  of  deliverance  were  not  made  dependent  on  external 
and  accidental  goods,  but  on  change  of  heart,  repentance,  and 
love  of  God  and  man.  The  Pharisaic  conception  of  the  right- 
eousness of  the  letter  is  transformed  by  the  founder  of  Chris- 
tianity into  the  doctrine  of  the  righteousness  of  the  spirit.  What 
is  done  should  be  done  from  love  and  worship  of  God  and  not 
from  fear;  purity  of  heart  is  of  more  avail,  in  his  sight,  than 
external  observance  of  levitical  rules  and  practices,  the  inner 
spirit  of  greater  worth  than  outward  forms.  There  is  but  one 
way  of  reaching  salvation  and  that  is  to  rid  oneself  of  evil  pas- 
sions, of  envy,  anger,  hatred,  and  revenge  ;  to  forgive  even  those 
that  hate  us,  for  it  is  better  to  suffer  wrong  than  to  do  wrong. 
Love  and  forgiveness  take  the  place  of  hate  and  revenge;  man 
shall  love  his  neighbor  as  himself,  and  every  human  being  is  his 
neighbor. 

With  its  spiritual  monotheism,  its  doctrine  of  a  life  to  come, 
its  gospel  of  love,  and  the  example  of  the  suffering  Christ,  the 
new  religion  appealed  to  the  Roman  world- 
Christianity  kingdom.  And  as  the  number  of  its  converts 
Culture^  increased  among  the  cultured  classes,  it  could  not 
ignore  the  philosophical  conceptions  rooted  in  the 
civilization  in  which  it  had  to  make  its  way.  Indeed,  Chris- 
tianity, as  it  appeared  in  Palestine,  owed  its  origin,  in  part  at 
least,  to  this  civilization;  Judaism  had  not  been  able  to  resist 
the  influences,—  ethical,  political,  social,  religious,  and  intellec- 
tual, —  which  pervaded  the  great  Roman  Empire  ;  and  the  Chris- 
tian revolt  was  one  of  the  results.  The  new  world-religion 
arrived  when  the  times  were  fulfilled.  Among  the 


made  its  appearance  possible  were  the  existence  of  a  .universal 
empire  ;  the  growing  spirit  of  cosmopolitanism  and  brotherhood, 
which  Stoicism  had  done  so  much  to  inculcate;  the  conception 
of  a  spiritual  deity  taught  by  the  philosophers;  the  doctrines 
of  immortality  contained  in  the  popular  Greek  mysteries  and 
Oriental  religions;  and  the  Jewish  ideal  of  a  personal  God^ 
which  succeeded  in  awakening  the  religious  spirit  where  the 
abstract  notions  of  the  metaphysicians  had  failed.  Christianity 
was,  in  a  measure,  a  child  of  its  age,  a  child  of  Judaism  and 
Hellenic-Roman  civilization.  But  the  influence  of  the  age  did 


BEGINNINGS  OF  CHRISTIANITY  135 

not  cease  with  its  emergence  into  the  world ;  in  addressing  itself 
to  the  Greeks  and  Romans  of  the  times,  it  gradually  assimi- 
lated the  culture  of  the  world  to  which  it  brought  its  tidings. 
Had  the  Jewish-Christian  section  of  the  new  religion,  which 
interpreted  it  as  a  phase  of  Judaism,  triumphed,  it  is  not  un- 
likely that  Christianity  would  have  been  buried  beneath  the  walls 
of  Jerusalem. 

In  order  to  deliver  its  message  effectively,  Christianity  had 
to  solve  a  number  of  important  problems.  It  had  to  justify  its  ' 
faith  to  reason,  to  defend  itself  against  the  attacks  of  the  pub- 
licists and  philosophers  who  in  time  came  to  take  notice  of 
it,  and  to  show  the  reasonableness  of  its  teachings.  It  was  neces- 
sary for  its  leaders  to  meet  their  opponents  on  their  own  ground, 
to  make  use  of  the  philosophical  conceptions  familiar  to  their 
minds,  to  fight  them  with  their  own  intellectual  weapons, — their 
own  philosophy.  Such  defenders  of  the  faith,  or  Apologists, 
came  when  they  were  needed.  But  it  also  became  necessary 
to  define  the  creed,  to  formulate  articles  of  faith,  to  establish 
a  body  of  doctrine  or  dogmas.  Here,  again,  minds  trained  in 
philosophy  were  of  service  in  giving  rational  expression  to  the 
traditional  beliefs  of  the  Christian  communities;  and  in  this 
work,  also,  Greek  thought  exercised  a  significant  influence  on 
Christianity.  The  dogmas  were  officially  defined  by  the  great 
councils  of  the  Church,  but  before  agreement  could  be  reached, 
much  work  had  to  be  done:  many  solutions  were  offered  and 
rejected,  and  many  interpretations  of  the  faith  struggled  for  the 
victory.  The  victorious  creed  became  the  orthodox  creed,  and 
the  thinkers  who  played  important  parts  in  defining  it  were 
called  Fathers  of  the  Church. 

A.  Harnack,  What  is  Christianity?  transl.  by  Saunders,  and  Ex- 
pansion of  Christianity,  transl.  by  Moffatt ;  Pfleiderer,  Origin  of  Chris- 
tianity; Development  of  Christianity;  and  Primitive  Christianity; 
McGiffert,  History  of  Christianity  in  Apostolic  Age;  Gibbon's  Rome, 
chap,  xv ;  Mommsen,  History  of  Rome  (especially  the  volume  on  the 
provinces);  Lecky,  op.  cit.,  vol.  I;  Friedliinder,  op.  cit.;  Wendland, 
Die  hellenistisch-romische  Kultur.  See  also:  Cheyne,  Encyclopedia 
Biblica;  Hastings,  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  and  Encyclopedia  of  Reli- 
gion and  Ethics. 

After  the  establishment  of  the  fundamental  doctrines  and  the 
triumph  of  Christianity  as  an  organized  State  Church,  came  the 


136  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

period  of  philosophical  construction, — the  elaboration  of  a  phi- 
•i  losophy  the  subject-matter  and  guiding  principles  of  which  were 
determined  by  the  dogma.    This  philosophy,  which 
PhSfh         constitutes    the    largest    part    of    the    philosophy 
of    the    Middle    Ages,    or    Christian    Philosophy, 
ii    had  for  its  aim  the  exposition,  systematization,  and  demonstra- 
tion of  the  Christian  dogmas, — the  construction  of  a  theory  of 
the  world  and  of  life  on  a  Christian  basis.     The  thinkers  who 
performed  this  service  were  called  Schoolmen  and  their  systems 
Scholastic  Philosophy. 

In  all  the  cases  we  have  mentioned,  Greek  philosophy  was 
drawn  upon  for  help  in  the  solution  of  the  problems.  But  the 
attitude  of  mind  was  not  that  of  the  ancient  thinkers:  their 
object  had  been,  in  the  main,  to  give  a  rational  explanation  of 
the  universe  independently  of  the  popular  religion;  they  ap- 
proached the  task  in  a  more  or  less  scientific  spirit,  often  even 
in  a  spirit  antagonistic  to  the  prevailing  creed.  The  School- 
men, on  the  other  hand,  accepted  the  truths  of  Christianity  as 
beyond  dispute;  these  formed  the  starting-point  and  regulative 
principles  of  their  speculation ;  and  these  they  sought  to  render 
intelligible  and  reasonable,  or  to  prove.  In  order  to  succeed, 
they  had  recourse  to  such  systems  of  Greek  thought  as  best 
suited  the  end  in  view;  with  them,  therefore,  philosophy  was 
placed  in  the  service  of  religion;  it  became  the  handmaiden  of 
theology  (ancilla  theologice). 

"Within  the  limits  set  by  Christian  dogma,  the  niind  was  left 
free  to  exercise  its  skill ;  so  long  as  it  did  not  conflict  with  estab- 
lished truths,  human  reason  could  interpret  the  world  as  it 
pleased.  In  the  course  of  time,  however,  the  intellect  began  to 
free  itself  from  its  theological  tether  and  to  seek  satisfaction 
outside  of  the  circumscribed  territory ;  the  scholastic  attitude 
and  method  proved  unsatisfactory,  and  attempts  were  made  to 
construct  systems  on  a  more  independent  basis.  From  another 
side  objections  were  also  urged  against  the  entire  rationalistic 
movement :  the  dogmas  and  the  whole  ecclesiastical  system  were 
criticised  and  the  effort  made  to  transform  the  inner  religious 
life  of  the  people,  with  the  Bible  and  the  conscience  as  the  guide 
and  standard.  These  tendencies  towards  reforming  the  theo- 
retical and  practical  phases  of  organized  Christianity  culmi- 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY       137 

nated    in    the    two    great    preludes  to    the    modern    era:    the 
Renaissance  and  the  Reformation. 

Consult,  besides  the  general  (especially  the  text-books  of  Stockl  and 
Turner)  and  special  works  mentioned  on  pp.  4,  f . :  Paulsen,  System  of 
Ethics,  Book  I,  chaps,  ii,  iii,  iv,  vi;  de  Wulf,  History  of  Medieval 
Philosophy,  transl.  by  Coffey,  and  Scholasticism  Old  and  New;  A. 
Harnack,  History  of  Dogma,  transl.  by  Buchanan;  Townsend,  The 
Great  Schoolmen;  H.  0.  Taylor,  The  Classical  Heritage  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  The  Medieval  Mind,  2  vols.;  Poole,  Illustrations  of  the  His- 
tory of  Medieval  Thought;  Lecky,  History  of  European  Morals; 
T.  C.  Hall,  History  of  Ethics  Within  Organized  Christianity;  Brett, 
History  of  Psychology;  Baeumker  in  Allgemeine  Geschichte  der  Phi- 
losophie,  mentioned  p.  4  (excellent  short  account) ;  Eicken,  Geschichte 
und  System  der  mittelalterlichen  Weltanschauung;  Picavet,  Esquisse 
d'une  histoire  des  philosophies  medievales;  Prantl,  Geschichte  der  Logik 
im  Abendlande,  4  vols.;  Stockl,  Geschichte  der  Philosophic  des  Mittel- 
alters,  3  vols.;  Haureau,  De  la  philosophic  scolastique;  Morin,  Dic- 
tionnaire  de  philosophic  et  theologie  scolastiques ;  Baeumker  and  others, 
Beitrdge;  Grabmann,  Geschichte  der  scholastischen  Methode,  2  vols.; 
Siebeek,  Geschichte  der  Psychologie  von  Aristoteles  bis  Thomas  von 
Aquino;  histories  of  Christian  ethics  by  Gass,  Luthardt,  Ziegler; 
A.  D.  White,  A  History  of  the  Warfare  of  Science  with  Theology; 
Strunz,  Geschichte  der  Naturwissenschaften  im  Mittelalter;  Ebert, 
Allgemeine  Geschichte  der  Litteratur  des  Mittelaters.  Robinson,  In- 
troduction to  the  History  of  Western  Europe;  Emerton,  Medieval 
Europe;  Adams,  Civilization  during  the  Middle  Ages;  Cambridge 
Medieval  History. 

Paulsen,  German  Universities,  transl.  by  Thilly  and  Elwang;  Rashdall, 
Universities  of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages;  Denifle,  Universitdten  im 
Mittelalter;  books  of  Munroe  and  Graves  mentioned  p.  5. 

18.   DEVELOPMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY 

As  has  been  stated,  the  new  religion  was  soon  compelled  to 
define  its  doctrines,  to  defend  them,  and  to  construct  a  Chris- 
tian  theology   declaring  its   attitude   toward   the 
prevailing     Jewish     and     Hellenistic     modes     of  ^rlv 
thought.     The  system  best  adapted  to  the  imme- 
diate purpose  at  hand,  in  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era, 
was  the  Jewish-Greek  philosophy  which  we  have  already  out- 
lined.   "  The  allegorical  explanation  of  the  Old  Testament  be- 
came an  indispensable  means  of  combining  the  new  faith  with 
the  old  revelations,"  says  Zeller,  "  and  the  logos-doctrine  of 
Philo,  which   was   fused   with   the   Jewish-Christian  Messianic 
belief,  formed  the  center  of  the  dogmatic  movement  in  Chris- 
tian theology  for  centuries  to  come." 


138  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

We  find  the  beginnings  of  Christian  dogmatic  theology  in  the 
writings  of  the  Apostle  Paul  and  his  school.  He  was  the  first 
to  offer  a  Christian  theology  or  a  philosophy  of  history  on  a 
Christian  basis.  The  Epistles  ascribed  to  him  betray  the  influ- 
ence of  conceptions  similar  to  those  made  use  of  in  the  so-called 
Wisdom  of  Solomon  (doubtless  known  to  him)  and  developed  in 
the  philosophy  of  Philo ;  Christ  is  identified  with  God 's  Power 
and  Wisdom,  the  Logos ;  he  preexisted  as  the  archetypal  man, 
but  was  created  by  God.  The  same  notion  is  brought  out  in 
Clement's  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  (93  to  95),  the  Barnabas 
Epistle  (96  or  97),  the  Shepherd  of  Hermas  (about  140),  the 
Fourth  Gospel,  and  in  the  writings  of  Ignatius  (115). 

In  these  ideas  we  have  a  fairly  well-defined  theology.  The 
historical  elements  of  Christianity  are  interpreted  in  the  light 

of  the  Greek  logos-doctrine;  religious  and  philo- 
Gnoshcs  ,.     .    .  . ,    , '  ,       * 

sophical  elements  are  welded  together  in  a  way  to 

emphasize  the  religious  aspect:  the  Logos  is  a  personality,  the 
son  of  a  living  Father,  not  a  cold  philosophical  abstraction.  It 
was  quite  natural,  however,  that  other  thinkers,  with  a  stronger 
bent  for  speculation,  should  have  sought  to  interpret  the  new 
religion  according  to  their  philosophical  preconceptions,  to 
rationalize  it,  to  transform  faith  into  knowledge  (yvcoffi?, 
gnosis).  This  work  was  done  in  the  second  century  by  the 
Gnostics,  as  they  have  been  called.  Philo  the  Jew  had  inter- 
preted Judaism  in  the  light  of  Greek  philosophy,  and  had  tried 
to  reconcile  the  thoughts  of  the  Greek  metaphysicians  with  those 
of  the  Jewish  teachers.  The  Gnostics  endeavor  to  do  the  same 
for  Christianity;  they  speculate  upon  their  faith,  and  offer  a 
philosophy  of  Christianity  and  a  Christian  philosophy,  a  har- 
mony of  faith  and  knowledge,  religion  and  science. 

We  have  here  an  embryonic  scholasticism,  crude  and  fan- 
tastic though  it  may  be.  It  was  asserted  by  these  Christian 
Philonists,  as  we  might  call  them,  that  their  doctrines  had  been 
transmitted  by  Jesus  to  such  of  his  followers  as  were  able  to 
receive  them,  that  is,  as  secret  or  esoteric  teachings  for  the 
educated.  They  taught  that  Christianity  was  an  entirely  new 
and  divine  doctrine,  Judaism  a  corrupt  form  of  religion,  the 
revelation  of  an  inferior  being,  and  heathenism  the  work  of  evil 
spirits.  The  Jewish  God,  or  Demiurge,  they  regarded  as  a 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY       139 

false  God,  opposed  to  the  kingdom  of  light,  or  the  abode  of  the 
highest  spirits,  and  to  the  true  God.  Christ,  one  of  the  highest 
spirits,  entered  a  human  body  in  order  to  free  the  spirits  of 
light  imprisoned  in  matter  by  the  Demiurge.  Those  able  to 
comprehend  the  genuine  teachings  of  Christ  become  gnostics, 
or  pneumatic  beings,  and  are  eventually  delivered  from  their 
material  bondage,  asceticism  being  one  of  the  means  of  escape. 
Such  as  fail  to  free  themselves  from  sensuous  matter  perish 
with  it,  while  the  literalists  (psychic  beings)  go  to  the  heaven 
of  the  Demiurge.  The  world  is  the  result  of  a  fall;  matter  is 
the  principle  of  evil;  the  exoteric  doctrine  is  contained  in  the 
creed,  the  esoteric  doctrine  is  a  secret  tradition. 

Chief  among  the  Gnostics  are:  Cerinthus  (115  A.D.),  Saturninus 
(125),  and  Valentine  (+160).  The  system  of  Marcion,  who  formed 
a  church  at  Rome,  in  144,  and  accepted  as  canonical  the  Gospel  of 
St.  Luke  and  ten  Pauline  Epistles,  contains  teachings  resembling 
Gnosticism,  but  emphasizes  faith  instead  of  knowledge  and  cannot, 
therefore,  be  assigned  to  this  sect. 

Special  works  on  the  Gnostics  by  H.  L.  Mansel,  Neander,  Baur, 
Matter.  Cf.  W.  Schultz,  Dokumente  der  Gnosis,  which  contains  Ger- 
man translations  of  the  sources,  and  the  article  in  the  Britannica  by 
Bousset,  where,  also,  bibliography  is  given. 

It  is  evident,  however,  that  the  Gnostics  were  not  equal  to 
their  task:  instead  of  a  philosophical  system,  they  offered  a 
"  semi-Christian  mythology."  Besides,  their  doctrines  were  in 
conflict  with  the  prevailing  conceptions  of  the  teaching  of  Jesus ; 
their  repudiation  of  the  Old  Testament,  their  distinction  be- 
tween an  esoteric  and  exoteric  Christianity,  their  conception 
of  Jesus  as  a  man  whose  body  is  used  by  a  heavenly  Christ,  a 
creature  far  beneath  God  and  even  beneath  the  angels,  their 
belief  in  specially  endowed  natures  or  pneumatic  beings,  and 
their  allegorical  interpretations,  were  all  antagonized  by  the 
Apologists  and  other  conservative  leaders  of  Christianity  and 
denounced  as  heresies.  At  the  same  time,  the  Gnostic  movement 
exercised  a  great  influence  on  the  new  religion  and  its  theology. 
It  gave  an  impetus  to  the  philosophical  study  of  the  faith  or 
theology.  Some  of  its  fundamental  ideas,  which  came  from  Greek 
philosophy,  found  their  way  into  the  works  of  the  early  writers 
of  the  Church,  and  so  became  a  factor  in  the  evolution  of  the 
dogma. 


140  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

The  Apologists  did  not  differ  from  the  Gnostics  in  their 
general  aim  to  render  the  new  religion  intelligible;  they,  too, 
A  i  •  appealed  to  philosophy  in  their  efforts  to  defend 

the  faith  against  the  heathen  as  well  as  against  the 
fantastic  interpretations  of  Gnosticism.  Christianity  was,  for 
them,  both  philosophy  and  revelation;  its  truths  were  of  super- 
natural origin  and  absolutely  certain,  but  they  were  rational 
truths,  even  though  they  could  be  comprehended  only  by  a 
divinely  inspired  mind.  In  the  words  of  Harnack:  "  The  con- 
viction common  to  them  all  may  be  summed  up  as  follows: 
Christianity  is  philosophy,  because  it  has  a  rational  content, 
because  it  gives  a  satisfactory  and  universally  intelligible  answer 
to  the  questions  which  all  true  philosophers  have  endeavored 
to  answer ;  but  it  is  not  philosophy,  indeed  it  is  the  direct  oppo- 
site of  philosophy  ...  in  so  far  as  it  is  revealed  truth  and, 
hence,  has  a  supernatural,  divine  origin,  upon  which  alone  the 
truth  and  certainty  of  its  teaching  ultimately  rests. ' '  * 

The  Apologists  were  acquainted  with  the  literature  and  phi- 
losophy of  their  times  and  addressed  themselves  to  the  educated 
classes.  Indeed,  nearly  all  the  early  leaders  of  the  churches 
were  men  who,  after  their  conversion,  took  up  the  cudgels  for 
the  new  religion  and  sought  to  win  favor  for  it  among  their 
own  people.  This  is  why  the  philosophical  element  generally 
predominates  in  their  writings,  and  why  the  purely  religious 
phase  is  so  often  placed  in  the  background. 

Among  the  leaders  in  this  field  are:  Justin  the  Martyr  (+166), 
Tatian  (born  about  130),  Athenagoras  (wrote  about  170),  Theophilus 
(Bishop  in  180),  Irenams  (born  120-130),  Hippolytus  (died  after 
235),  Minucius  Felix  (second  century),  Tertullian  (160-240),  Cyprian 
(200-258),  Clement  of  Alexandria  (+216),  and  Origen  (185-254).  The 
movement  culminated  in  the  catechetical  schools,  perhaps  the  first  of 
which  was  established  in  Alexandria  by  Pantsenus,  formerly  a  Stoic 
philosopher,  in  180.  The  object  of  these  schools  was  not  only  to  defend 
the  new  religion  and  demonstrate  its  reasonableness,  but  to  reduce  the 
teaching  to  systematic  form  for  the  benefit  of  the  clergy,  whose  duty 
it  became  to  instruct  the  pagan  and  Jewish  proselytes  in  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Christian  religion.  Origen,  the  greatest  leader  of  the 
Alexandrian  school,  worked  out  a  comprehensive  Christian  theology  in 
which  the  influence  of  Neoplatonism,  which  had  its  home  at  Alex- 
andria, is  strongly  marked. 

*  Dogmengeschichte,  p.  89 ;  Outlines  of  History  of  Dogma,  transl.  by 
Mitchell,  p.  121. 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY       141 

Collections  of  the  writings  of  the  Fathers  (Latin  and  Greek)  edited 
by  Migne,  1840,  ff.;  de  Gerhardt  and  others,  1875,  ff.;  new  edition, 
Corpus  Scriptorum  Ecclesiasticorum  Latinorum  by  Vienna  Academy 
(since  1866) ;  Collection  of  Greek  Fathers  of  first  three  centuries  by 
Prussian  Academy  (since  1897) ;  English  transl.  in  The  Ante-Nicene 
Christian  Library,  ed.  by  Roberts  and  Donaldson,  and  in  Library  of 
Nicene  and  Post-Nicene  Fathers,  ed.  by  Schaff  and  Wace. 

The  fundamental  thought  in  the  writings  of  the  Apologists 
is  this:  The  world,  though  perishable,  exhibits  traces  of  reason 
and  order,  and  points  to  one  eternal,  unchange- 
able, good  and  just  First  Cause,  the  source  of  all  life   Teachings 
and  being.     This  principle  transcends  all  life  and   Apologists 
being :  the  sublimity,  power,  wisdom,  goodness,  and 
grace  of  God  are  beyond  all  human  notions,  beyond  all  descrip- 
tion.   Yet  the  First  Cause  of  all  creation  must  be  rational ;  reason 
must  always  have  been  potential  in  him  as  a  part  of  his  inner 
nature ;  and  to  the  presence  of  Reason,  or  the  Logos,  in  God,  are 
due  the  order  and  purpose  in  the  universe.     In  other  words, 
jreggjgiLand  goodness  lie  at  the  root  of  the  world,  and  God  is  the 
eternal  and  abiding  principle  in  all  change. 

By  an  act  of  free  will  God  emits  the  Logos:  the  Logos  pro- 
ceeds from  him  as  the  light  proceeds  from  the  sun.  And  as  the 
light  emitted  from  the  sun  does  not  separate  from  the  sun,  so 
the  divine  Reason  does  not  separate  from  God  in  the  procession ; 
by  giving  birth  to  the  reason  in  him,  God  does  not  lose  his 
reason;  the  Logos  remains  with  the  Creator,  subsists  with  the 
source  whence  it  sprang.  At  the  same  time,  the  Logos  is  con- 
ceived as  an  independent  personality, — identical  with  God  in 
essence,  but  not  numerically, — a  second  God  who  has  been  eter- 
nally with  God.  The  Logos  became  man  in  Jesus  Christ,  Christ 
being  the  incarnate  Logos,  "  the  word  made  flesh/'  The  Holy 
Ghost  is  another  emanation  from  God ;  i.e.,  the  prophetic  spirit, 
which  springs  from  God,  is  conceived  as  an  entity. 

We  have  in  these  conceptions  the  personification  of  divine 
reason  with  which  we  have  become  familiar  in  the  Greek  phi- 
losophy of  religion:  reason  is  the  organ  by  which  the  world 
is  fashioned  and  through  which  God  indirectly  acts  on  the  world. 
The  transcendency  of  God  is  emphasized,  and  the  attempt  is  also 
made  to  save  the  independence  of  the  Logos:  the  Logos  is  con- 
ceived as  eternally  with  God,  as  co-eternal  with  him,  as  the  phrase 


142  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

goes,  as  potential  in  him,  as  identical  with  him  in  his  very 
nature ;  and  yet  the  Father  is  said  to  be  the  source  of  his  being 
and  activity  (Irenseus),  hence  he  would  seem  to  be  subordinated 
to  the  Father, — a  creature.  Moreover,  he  becomes  a  person  by 
God's  will,  which  would  imply  that  there  was  a  time  when  he 
was  not,  which,  again,  would  make  him  a  creature.  Origen  un- 
dertakes to  solve  this  difficulty  by  combining  both  ideas  and 
teaching  that  the  Logos  is  eternally  created.  The  act  of  creation 
is  not  an  act  in  time,  but  an  eternally  present  one,  semel  et  simul . 
the  Son  is  eternally  and  continuously  created. 

The  creation  of  the  world  is  explained  after  the  Greek  models 
God  is  the  ground  and  purpose  of  all  things:  from  him  they 
come  and  to  him  they  return.  The  Logos,  however,  is  the  pat- 
tern, or  archetype,  or  prototype,  of  all  created  beings;  which 
means,  everything  is  created  in  the  image  of  reason  and  by  the 
power  of  reason  or  divine  \  intelligence.  We  may  put  it  this 
way:  the  Creator  fashioned  the  world  from  formless  matter, 
— which  he  created  out  of  nothing, — after  a  pattern  or  rational 
plan  which  he  carried  in  his  mind.  This  system  of  thoughts  is 
conceived  by  the  Apologists  as  a  personal  entity,  which,  as  an 
active  cause,  forms,  preserves,  and  controls  everything. 

Creation  is  the  result  of  God's  love  and  goodness  and  for  the 
benefit  of  man.  According  to  the  majority  of  the  Apologists, 
creation  is  an  act  in  time;  according  to  Origen,  God  creates 
eternally,  and  creatures  have  always  existed.  The  universe  is 
for  him,  as  it  was  for  Aristotle,  eternal,  but  the  world  now  ex- 
isting has  had  a  beginning  and  will  pass  away,  to  be  replaced 
by  other  and  different  worlds. 

The  world  was  made  for  the  sake  of  man.  The  goal  of  man, 
however,  is  not  this  world,  but  the  hereafter.  Other-worldliness, 
world-flight,  the  withdrawal  of  the  soul  from  the  world  of  sense 
to  God,  is  the  highest  good.  The  resurrection  of  the  body  and 
soul  (or  spirit)  in  some  form  or  other,  is  taught  by  all  the 
Apologists;  sometimes  soul  and  body  are  both  regarded  as  mor- 
tal, immortality  being  bestowed  on  them  as  an  act  of  divine 
grace,  according  to  the  works  of  the  soul  (Justin)  ;  sometimes 
man  is  held  to  possess,  in  addition  to  body  and  soul,  a  higher 
spirit  which  is  immortal  and  through  which  body  and  soul  share 
in  immortality  (Tatian) ;  sometimes  this  spirit  is  said  to  be 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY       143 

conferred    from    above    upon    those    who    control    their    pas- 
sions. 

Another  teaching  common  to  the  Apologists  is  that  of  free  • 
will  and  the  fall  of  man.  God  created  spirits  with  the  capacity 
to  distinguish  between  good  and  evil  and  the  power  of  freedom 
to  choose  between  them.  Some  chose  to  disobey  God,  to  turn 
flesh- ward  and  away  from  God,  for  which  sin  they  fell  to  a 
lower  level  of  life  in  carnal  bodies.  Man  may  regain  his  lost 
estate  by  leading  a  Christian  life  and  through  divine  grace, 
through  the  revealed  truth  of  the  Logos.  On  the  day  of  judg- 
ment, after  a  sojourn  in  Hades  or  Purgatory,  the  just  will  enter 
eternal  life,  and  the  unjust  be  forever  rejected.  Origen,  how- 
ever, believed  in  the  final  redemption  of  all.  The  thought  run- 
ning through  this  teaching  is  that,  in  sinning,  the  first  man  or 
a  heavenly  spirit,  as  the  case  may  be,  brought  sin  into  the 
world,  for  which  mankind  is  suffering,  but  that  there  is  hope 
for  our  ultimate  redemption  if  we  will  only  turn  away  from  the 
things  of  sense  and  seek  to  be  reunited  with  God. 

The  fundamental  article  of  faith  declares  that  the  human 
race  is  redeemed  by  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  that  the  Son 
of  God  came  to  deliver  man  from  sin.  This  simple  proposition 
gave  rise  to  a  number  of  problems  over  which  the  Christian 
theologians  debated  for  centuries  to  come,  and  which  received 
official  settlement  only  after  long  and  bitter  controversies.  The 
proposition  contained  three  important  notions:  God,  Jesus 
Christ,  and  man.  How  shall  we  conceive  God  the  Father,  the 
Son  of  God,  and  human  nature  in  the  scheme  of  salvation  ?  How 
are  these  beings  related  to  one  another:  the  Father  and  the  Son, 
or  Logos ;  the  Son  and  the  man  Jesus ;  and  God  and  man  ? 

The  logos-doctrine,  which  appears  so  prominently  in  early 
Christian  theology,  did  not  penetrate  into  the  rank  and  file  of 
the  early  Church.     The  simple-minded  Christian 
of  the  first  centuries,  living  in  a  polytheistic  com-   Doctrine 
munity,  believed  in   the   Father,   Son,   and   Holy 
Ghost  without  interpreting  his  faith  metaphysically;  for  him 
Jesus  the  man  was  somehow  the  Son  of  God,  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
another  supernatural  being:  the  metaphysical  nature  and  rela- 
tion of  these  beings  to  one  another  and  to  God,  he  did  not 


144  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

attempt  to  fathom.  The  intellectual  leaders  of  the  Church 
in  their  endeavors  to  defend  the  faith  against  Gnostics  and  pagar 
philosophers,  were  carried  farther  and  farther  into  the  specu 
lations  of  the  Greek  schools,  until  they  finally  hellenized  the 
Gospel.  It  was  quite  natural  that  the  logos-doctrine  shoulc 
have  met  with  serious  opposition  in  many  quarters  and  thai 
efforts  should  have  been  made  to  reach  a  less  metaphysical  inter 
pretation  of  the  fundamentals  of  the  faith.  Many  sects  arose 
which  sought  to  express  the  teachings  of  Christianity  in  a  fora 
intelligible  to  those  not  familiar  with  theological  speculations 
The  doctrine  which  had  the  largest  following  among  Christiar 
bodies  from  130  to  300  was  Modalism,  which  was  called  Patri 
passianism  in  the  Western  Roman  world  and  Sabellianism  ir 
the  East.  According  to  the  former,  God  assumed  flesh,  became 
man  and  suffered  in  the  flesh;  according  to  the  latter,  Goc 
manifests  himself  in  three  successive  ways  or  powers,  as  Father 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  In  either  case,  the  three  persons  are 
one  and  the  same  God  in  different  forms  or  modes. 

But  these  views  did  not  prevail  against  the  logos-theology ;  bj 
the  end  of  the  third  century  the  philosophical  theology  hac 
triumphed;  Harnack  says,  "  it  even  read  its  articles  into  the 
creed."  The  thinkers  all  succumbed  to  the  influence  of  Origen 
His  successors  made  the  faith  so  philosophical  that  it  became 
unintelligible  to  laymen;  the  purely  cosmological  and  philo- 
sophical elements  were  emphasized  at  the  expense  of  the  idea 
of  salvation, — formula*  were  established  in  which  the  name  oi 
Christ  was  not  even  mentioned.  The  Neoplatonism  of  Origen 's 
system  threatened  to  swamp  Christianity.* 

The  question  of  the  relation  of  the  Logos  to  God,  or  of  the 
Son  to  the  Father,  formed  the  subject  of  a  great  controversy 
at  the  Council  of  Nicaaa,  in  325,  between  the  Arians,  the  follow- 
ers of  Arius,  and  the  Anti-Arians,  of  whom  Athanasius  after- 
ward became  the  leader.  According  to  Arius,  Christ  is  a  crea- 
ture of  God,  endowed  with  free  will,  which  God  foresaw  he 
would  use  for  good,  and,  therefore,  conferred  on  him  the  dignity 
of  a  God  at  his  creation.  According  to  Athanasius,  the  Son, 
as  the  principle  of  salvation,  is  begotten,  not  made,  by  the 
Father;  co-eternal  with  the  Father,  of  one  substance  with  the 
*  Harnack,  Outlines  of  History  of  the  Dogma,  pp.  193,  ff. 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY      145 

Father  (homoousios) ;  sharing  fully  in  the  nature  of  the  Father, 
without  loss  to  the  Father  and  without  ceasing  to  be  another 
person.  In  the  historical  Jesus,  the  Logos-God,  or  the  Son, 
was  united,  in  essence,  with  a  human  body ;  the  incarnation  was 
a  complete  incarnation.  The  Holy  Ghost  is  a  third  being;  the 
one  Godhead  is  a  trinity  of  the  same  substance,  consisting  of 
three  persons  identical  in  nature. 

The  Anti-Arians  won  the  victory  at  the  Council;  the  Arian 
doctrines  were  condemned  and  Arius  and  his  followers  excom- 
municated. The  words  "  begotten,  not  made,  being  of  one  sub- 
stance with  the  Father  "  were  inserted  in  the  creed  which  has 
come  to  be  called  the  Nicene  creed.  An  unsuccessful  attempt 
was  later  made  to  effect  a  compromise  between  Arianism  and 
Athanasianism  by  declaring  God  and  Christ  to  be,  not  of  the 
same  substance  (homoousios),  but  of  like  nature  (homoiousios) , 
and  failure  to  agree  on  this  point  led  to  a  division  between  the 
Roman  and  Greek  Churches. 

Both  parties  to  the  controversy  had  sought  support  for  their 
views  in  the  Neoplatonic  philosophy  of  Origen;  and  the  ortho- 
dox interpretation,  no  less  than  the  defeated  theory,  is  based 
on  the  logos-doctrine. 

Another  question  to  stir  up  controversy  was  the  problem  of 
the  relation  of  the  man  Jesus  to  the  Logos- God,  the  Christological 
problem.  Many  answers  were  offered  and  many  factions  formed 
in  support  of  the  different  theories.  The  interpretation  that 
Christ  had  two  natures,  * '  each  perfect  in  itself  and  each  distinct 
from  the  other,  yet  perfectly  united  in  one  person,  who  was 
at  once  both  God  and  man,"  was  accepted  by  the  Synod  of 
Chalcedon,  in  451,  and  became  the  orthodox  dogma. 

After  the  establishment  of  the  dogma  at  Nicaea,  Christian  philosophy 
was  studied  chiefly  in  the  school  of  Origen,  at  Alexandria.  The  ortho- 
dox doctrines  were  adopted,  in  the  main,  and  such  teachings  in  Origen's 
system  as  conflicted  with  them  rejected.  Among  the  representatives  of 
the  school  who  assisted  in  the  work  of  reconstruction,  were  Gregory 
of  Nyssa  (+394),  Basil  the  Great  (+379),  and  Gregory  of  Nazianzen 
(+390).  Neoplatonism,  as  taught  by  Plotinus,  also  had  a  large  follow- 
ing, among  the  leaders  being:  Bishop  Synesius  (+430),  Bishop 
Nemesius  (c.  450),  JSncas  of  Gaza  (c.  530),  Zacharias  Scholasticus, 
Johannes  Grammaticus,  and  Johannes  Philoponus,  all  of  the  sixth 
century.  The  Neoplatonic  work,  falsely  attributed  to  Dionysius  the 
Areopagite,  appeared  at  the  end  of  the  fifth  century. 


146  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

A  third  question  demanded  an  official  answer:  What  is  the 
place  of  man  in  the  scheme  of  salvation  ?  According  to  one  view, 

which  was  widespread,  the  whole  human  race  had 
Free  Will  been  corrupted  by  the  sin  of  the  first  man  or  a 
Original  Sin  ^a^en  angel;  and  divine  help,  in  some  form  or 

other,  was  needed  to  redeem  mankind.  The  fun- 
damental article  of  faith  that  Christ  had  come  down  from  heaven 
for  our  salvation  seemed  to  favor  such  an  interpretation:  if 
it  was  necessary  to  deliver  man  from  sin,  then  evidently  he 
could  not  save  himself,  he  was  a  slave  to  sin  and  by  nature  a 
sinner  (original  sin)  or  had  become  a  sinner  in  some  way;  at 
any  rate  he  was  not  free.  This  conception  received  support 
from  the  Manichaeans,  a  numerous  sect  accepting  the  teachings 
of  the  Persian  Mani  (+277),  who  read  Persian  dualism  and 
Gnosticism  into  the  Scriptures  and  combined  Christianity  with 
the  doctrines  of  Zoroaster.  They  taught  that  the  principle  of 
light  in  man  was  under  bondage  to  matter,  the  principle  of 
darkness,  and  that  the  soul  could  be  purified  and  enabled  to 
return  to  the  kingdom  of  light  whence  it  came,  only  by  asceti- 
cism, by  abstention  from  meat,  wine,  marriage,  property,  and 
labor.  But  it  was  possible  to  read  a  different  view  into  the 
article  of  faith :  Christ  came  to  save  man  from  sin.  Sin  implies 
guilt,  guilt  implies  responsibility  on  the  part  of  the  guilty  per- 
son ;  only  a  being  who  is  free  to  choose  between  right  and  wrong 
can  be  a  sinner.  Hence,  if  man  sinned,  he  must  have  been  free. 
The  same  conclusions  were  reached  in  another  way.  God  is  all- 
powerful  and  man,  therefore,  weak  and  unfree,  incapable  of 
saving  himself  from  sin;  only  a  miracle  can  deliver  him.  Or: 
God  is  absolutely  good  and  just,  and  cannot,  therefore,  be  re- 
sponsible for  sin ;  hence,  man  himself  must  be  the  author  of  sin, 
that  is,  free. 

Pelagius,  a  monk,  came  to  Rome,  in  the  year  400,  with  a  doc- 
trine opposed  to  the  notion  of  original  sin:  God  is  a  good  and 
just  God,  and  everything  created  by  him  good;  hence,  human 
nature  cannot  be  radically  evil.  Adam  was  free  to  sin  or  not 
to  sin ;  his  sensuous  nature,  which  is  evil,  determined  him,  and  he 
chose  sin.  Sin,  however,  cannot  be  transmitted  from  generation 
to  generation,  because  every  man  has  free  will :  sin  implies  free- 
dom. Freedom  is  the  original  act  of  grace,  the  first  gift 


WORLD-VIEW  OF  AUGUSTINE  147 

bestowed  by  a  good  God;  hence,  man  needs  no  help,  he  can 
resist  sin  and  will  the  good.  And  yet,  the  example  of  Adam's 
sin  was  baneful;  the  imitation  of  his  bad  example  has  led  to 
a  habit,  which  it  is  difficult  to  overcome,  and  which  is  respon- 
sible for  man's  fall.  But,  the  churchman  asked:  If  man  is  not 
enslaved  by  sin,  if  his  freedom  of  choice  has  not  been  destroyed, 
what  part  can  divine  grace  and  the  Christian  religion  play  in 
his  redemption?  The  Pelagians  answer:  It  is  by  an  act  of 
divine  grace  that  knowledge  is  revealed  (in  Scripture,  in  the 
teachings  and  example  of  Jesus,  and  in  the  doctrines  of  the 
Church)  which  will  lend  support  to  the  human  will  in  choosing 
the  good.  Baptism  and  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  are  necessary  to 
admission  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  God,  being  omniscient, 
knows  exactly  what  choices  men  are  going  to  make  in  their  lives, 
—how  they  will  use  their  power  of  freedom, — and  determines 
beforehand  the  rewards  and  punishments  to  be  meted  out 
(predestination). 

19.   WORLD-VIEW  OF  AUGUSTINE 

The  Pelagian  teaching  is  opposed  by  Augustine,  the  greatest 
constructive  thinker  and  the  most  influential  teacher  of  the  early 
Christian  Church.  In  his  system  the  most  im7 
portant  theological  and  philosophical  problems  of  Au^u£ 
his  age  are  discussed,  and  a  Christian  world-view  developed 
which  represents  the  culmination  of  Patristic  thought  and  be- 
comes the  guide  of  Christian  philosophy  for  centuries  to  come. 
It  is  owing  to  the  significance  of  Augustine 's  views  for  medieval 
philosophy,  as  well  as  for  the  Christian  theology  of  the  Refor- 
mation and  the  modern  period,  that  we  shall  consider  his  system 
in  its  different  phases. 

Aurelius  Augustinus  was  born  in  Tagaste,  Northern  Africa,  in  353, 
of  a  pagan  father  and  a  Christian  mother,  Monica,  who  exercised  a 
profound  influence  on  her  son.  He  became  a  teacher  of  rhetoric,  first 
in  his  native  city,  later  at  Milan  (384-386),  and  devoted  himself  to  the 
study  of  theological  and  philosophical  questions,  which  carried  him 
from  Manichaeism  to  skepticism,  and  left  him  unsatisfied.  In  386  he 
began  to  read  some  of  the  writings  of  Plato  and  the  Neoplatonists, 
which  gave  stability  to  his  thought,  and  came  under  the  influence 
of  the  eloquent  Bishop  Ambrose  of  Milan,  whose  sermons  touched  his 
heart.  After  his  conversion  in  387  he  returned  to  Tagaste,  where  he 


148  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

lived  for  three  years  (388-391)  according  to  monastic  rules,  and  wai 
ordained  to  the  priesthood.  In  396  he  was  raised  to  the  bishopric  oJ 
Hippo,  in  Africa,  which  he  held  until  his  death  in  430,  devoting  hii 
great  gifts  to  the  development  and  propagation  of  Catholic  doctrine. 

Among  the  works  of  Augustine  are:  De  libero  arbitrio;  De  vert 
religione;  De  prcsdestinatione  et  gratia;  De  trinitate;  De  civitate  Dei 
Confessiones;  Retractiones  ;  and  Letters. 

Works  in  Migne's  collection,  vols.  XXXII-XLVII;  transl.  ed.  ty 
Dods,  15  vols.;  also  in  Sehaff's  Library,  vols.  I-  VIII.  McCabe,  St 
Augustine  and  his  Age;  Boissier,  La  fin  du  paganisme;  writings  ty 
Bindemann,  A.  Dorner,  Reuter,  Bohringer  in  his  Church  History,  vol 
XI,  Martin. 

Characteristic  of  the  spirit  of  the  entire  Christian  age  is  th< 
Augustinian  view  that  the  only  knowledge  worth  having  is  tin 
knowledge  of  God  and  self.    All  the  other  sciences 
^0&G>  metaphysics,  and  ethics,  have  value  only  ii 


Knwed  e 

so  far  as  they  tell  us  of  God.     It  is  our  duty  tc 

understand  what  we  firmly  believe,  to  see  the  rationality  of  oui 
faith.  "  Understand  in  order  that  you  may  believe,  believe  ii 
order  that  you  may  understand.  Some  things  we  do  not  be 
lieve  unless  we  understand  them;  others  we  do  not  understanc 
unless  we  believe."  Besides  natural  knowledge,  faith  in  divine 
revelation  is  a  source  of  knowledge  of  God.  Intelligence  ii 
needed  for  understanding  what  it  believes;  faith  for  believing 
what  it  understands.  Reason,  to  be  sure,  must  first  decid( 
whether  a  Tevelation  has  actually  taken  place.  When  faith  has 
comprehended  the  revelation,  reason  seeks  to  understand  anc 
explain  it.  We  cannot,  however,  understand  everything  we 
believe,  but  must  accept  the  truths  of  faith  on  the  authority  oi 
the  Church,  which  is  the  representative  of  God  on  earth. 

We  know  that  we  exist;  our  thinking  and  existence  are  in- 
dubitable certainties.  And  we  know  that  there  is  eternal  anc 
immutable  truth:  our  very  doubts  prove  that  we  are  conscious 
of  truth,  and  the  fact  that  we  call  a  judgment  true  or  false 
points  to  the  existence  of  a  world  of  truth.  Augustine  here 
conceives  truth,  after  the  Platonic  fashion,  as  having  real  exist- 
ence, and  the  human  mind  as  possessing  instinctive  knowledge 
of  it.  Sometimes  he  speaks  as  if  we  envisaged  the  divine  ideas. 
at  other  times  he  says  that  God  creates  them  in  us.  In  either 
case,  truth  is  objective,  not  a  mere  subjective  product  of  the 
human"  mind;  there  is  something  independent  and  compelling 


WORLD-VIEW  OF  AUGUSTINE  149 

about  it;  whether  you  or  I  have  it  or  not,  it  is  and  always  will 
be.  The  source  of  this  eternal  and  changeless  world  of  truth 
is  God;  indeed,  the  divine  mind  is  the  abode  of  the  Platonic 
world  of  ideas,  forms,  archetypes,  or  essences,  even  of  the  ideai 
of  particular  things. 

The  impelling  motive  in  Augustine's  theology  is  the  Neopla- 
tonic  conception  of  the  absoluteness  and  majesty  of  God  and 
the  insignificance  of  his  creatures,  considered  apart 
from  him.  God  is  an  eternal,  transcendent  being, 
all-powerful,  all-good,  all-  wise;  absolute  unity,  absolute  intel- 
ligence, and  absolute  will;  that  is,  absolute  spirit.  He  is  abso- 
lutely free,  but  his  decisions  are  as  unchangeable  as  his  nature  ; 
he  is  absolutely  holy  and  cannot  will  evil.  In  him  willing  and 
doing  are  one:  what  he  wills  is  done  without  the  help  of  any 
intermediate  being  or  Logos.  In  him  are  all  ideas  or  forms 
of  things  ;  which  means  that  he  proceeded  rationally  in  creating 
the  world  and  that  everything  owes  its  form  to  him.  Augus- 
tine accepts  the  Athanasian  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  although  the 
illustrations  which  he  uses  to  make  it  clear  are  tainted  with 
Sabellianism. 

God  created  the  world  out  of  nothing;  it  is  not  a  necessary  v 
evolution  of  his  own  being,  as  the  pantheistic  Neoplatonists 
hold,  for  this  transcends  the  nature  of  his  creatures.  His  crea- 
tion is  a  continuous  creation  (creatio  continua),  for  otherwise 
the  world  would  go  to  pieces  :  it  is  absolutely  dependent  on  him. 
We  cannot  say  that  the  world  was  created  in  time  or  in  space, 
for.  before  God  created  the  world  there  was  neither  time  nor 
space;  in  creating,  he  created  time  and  space;  he  himself  is 
timeless  .and  without  space.  Yet,  God's  creation  is  not  an  eternal 
creation  ;  the  world  has  a  beginning  ;  creatures  are  finite,  change- 
able and  perishable.  ^Jjod  also  created  matter^  it  is  not  earlier 
tfrfln-tke^form,  though  prior  to  it  in  nature,  Jhat  is,  we  have 
to  presuppose  matter  logically  as  the  basis  of  the  form.  Since 
God  is  omnipotent,  every  conceivable  thing,  even  the  most  in- 
significant, must  be  present  in  the  universe. 

In  order  to  prove  divine  omnipotence,  Augustine  is  driven  to 
the  position  that  God  is  the  cause  of  everything.  In  order  to 
prove  his  goodness,  it  is  necessary  to  exclude  evil  from  the  world 
or  explain  it  away.  Creation  is  a  revelation  of  God's  goodness; 


-j 


150  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

he  created  the  universe  on  account  of  his  infinite  love.  (But, — 
Augustine  hastens  to  add,  for  fear  of  depriving  the  Deity  of 
absolute  power, — he  was  not  bound  to  create,  his  love  did  not 
compel  him ;  it  was  an  act  of  his  free  will. )  Every  kind  of  exist- 
ence is,  therefore,  in  a  sense,  good ;  only  we  should  not  judge  its 
value  from  the  standpoint  of  human  utility.  If  God  has  cre- 
ated and  predetermined  everything  and  is  at  the  same  time 
an  absolutely  good  being,  he  has  willed  everything  for  the  best 
of  his  creatures,  and  even  evil  must  be  good  in  its  way.  Like 
the  shadows  in  a  picture,  it  belongs  to  the  beauty  of  the  whole ; 
evil  is  not  good,  black  is  not  white,  but  it  is  good  that  evil  is. 
Or,  it  is  conceived  as  a  defect,  as  privation  of  essence  (privatio 
substantice) ,  as  an  omission  of  the  good;  in  this  sense,  if  there 
were  no  good,  there  could  be  no  evil.  Good  is  possible  without 
evil,  but  evil  is  not  possible  without  the  good;  for  everything  is 
good,  at  least  so  far  as  it  has  any  being  at  all.  Privation  of  good 
is  evil  because  it  means  an  absence  of  something  nature  ought 
to  have.  Nor  can  moral  evil  mar  the  beauty  of  universal  crea- 
tion. Moral  evil  springs  from  the  will  of  man  or  fallen  angels ; 
it  is  the  result  of  an  evil  will,-  which,  however,  is  nothing  posi- 
tive; hence,  it  merely  represents  a  defective  will;  it,  too,  is 
privation  of  good  (privatio  boni).  The  worst  evil  is  privatio 
Dei}  the  turning  away  from  God,  or  the  highest  good,  to  the 
perishable  world.  God  could  have  omitted  evil  from  the  scheme 
of  things,  but  he  preferred  to  use  it  as  a  means  of  serving  the 
good;  the  glory  of  the  universe  is  enhanced  by  its  presence 
(optimism).  He  foresaw,  for  example,  that  man  would  turn 
from  the  good  to  sin;  he  permitted  it  and  predetermined  his 
punishment.  That  is,  in  order  to  save  God's  goodness  along 
with  his  omnipotence,  Augustine  (1)  denies  the  existence  of  real 
evil  or  makes  it  relative;  (2)  defines  it  as  a  privation  of  the 
good;  (3)  shifts  the  responsibility  for  it  to  man. 

Man,  the  highest  creature  in  the  visible  world,  is  a  union  of 

soul  and  body.    This  union  is  not  the  result  of  sin ;  the  body  is 

not  the  prison-house  of  the  soul,  and  evil.     The 

soul  is  a  simple  immaterial  or  spiritual  substance, 

entirely  distinct  in  essence  from  the  body;  it  is  the  directing 

and  forming  principle,  the  life  of  the  body ;  but  how  it  acts  on 

the  body  is  a  mystery.     Sensation  is  a  mental,  not  a  physical 


WORLD-VIEW  OF  AUGUSTINE  151 

process.  Sense-perception,  imagination,  and  sensuous  desire 
are  functions  of  the  sensitive  or  inferior  soul  ;  memory,  intellect, 
and  will,  of  the  intellectual  or  superior  soul  or  spirit,  which  is 
in  no  wise  dependent  on  the  body.  All  these  functions,  how- 
ever, are  functions  of  one  soul  :  the  soul  is  a  unity,  three  in  one, 
the  image  of  the  triune  God.  Since  the  will  is  present  in  all 
modifications  of  the  soul,  we  may  say  that  these  are  nothing  but 
wills. 

The  soul  is  not  an  emanation  from  God;  each  man  has  his 
own  individual  soul.  Nor  did  souls  exist  before  their  union 
with  bodies  (preexistence).  How  they  arose,  Augustine  leaves 
unsettled;  it  is  a  problem  he  is  unable  to  solve.  He  finds  it 
hard  to  decide  in  favor  of  any  of  the  views  common  in  his  day  : 
that  God  creates  a  new  soul  for  every  child  that  is  born 
(creationism)  or  that  souls  are  generated  from  the  souls  of 
parents  in  the  same  way,  and  at  the  same  time,  as  bodies  from 
bodies  (  traducianism  )  . 

Although  the  soul  has  a  beginning  in  time,  it  does  not  die. 
Augustine  proves  its  immortality  by  the  usual  arguments  of  his 
age,  which  go  back  to  Plato.  Still,  although  the  soul  is  im- 
mortal in  the  sense  of  continuing  to  exist,  it  is  not  necessarily 
immortal  in  the  sense  of  realizing  eternal  blessedness.  The 
eternal  blessedness  of  the  soul  in  God  cannot  be  demonstrated: 
our  hope  in  it  is  an  act  of  faith. 

goaL4a_union   vith  God,  that  is,  a  reli- 


gious, mystical  ideal  :  the  vision  of  God.  Such  a  union  cannot 
take  place  in  an  imperfect  world,  but  only  in  a 
future  life,  which  is  the  true  life.  Our  earthly 
life  is  but  a  pilgrimage  to  God;  in  comparison  with  eternal 
blessedness,  it  is  not  life,  but  death.  We  have  here  the  char- 
acteristic  pessimism  of  early  Christianity  with  respect  to  the 
visible  universe,  and  buoyant  optimism  so  far  as  the  hereafter 
is  concerned  :  contemptus  mundi  on  the  one  hand,  and  amor  Dei 
on  the  other.  The  dualism  between  the  good  God  and  the  evil 
world,  however,  Augustine  seeks  to  reconcile  by  his  theory  of 
evil,  which  we  have  already  considered  and  according  to  which 
there  is  no  absolute  evil.  The  way  is  also  shown  by  which  the 
ethical  dualism  between  the  highest  good  and  our  workaday  mo- 
rality may  be  bridged. 


152  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

By  love  we  are  united  with  God,  the  highest  good  j  hence  love 
is  the  supreme  virtue,  the  source  of  all  the  other  virtues:  of 
temperance  or  self-control,  which  is  love  of  God  as  opposed  to 
love  of  the  world;  of  fortitude,  which  overcomes  pain  and  suf- 
fering by  love;  of  justice,  which  is  the  service  of  God;  and  of 
wisdom,  which  is  the  power  of  right  choice.  Love  of  God  is 
the  basis  of  true  love  of  self  and  of  others.  It  is  the  love  of 
God  alone  that  makes  the  so-called  pagan  virtues  genuine  vir- 
tues; unless  inspired  and  prompted  by  this  love,  they  are  noth- 
ing but  "  splendid  vices." 

The  love  of  God  is  the  work  of  divine  grace  acting  within: 
a  mystical  process  taking  place  in  the  sacraments  of  the  Church 
under  the  influence  of  God's  power.  Faith,  hope,  and  charity 
are  the  three  stages  in  moral  conversion,  love  being  the  highest. 
"  Whoever  loves  right,  doubtless  also  believes  and  hopes  right." 
"  Without  love  faith  can  do  nothing;  nor  is  love  without  hope, 
nor  hope  without  love,  nor  either  without  faith." 

In  this  teaching  lies  the  possibility  of  a  more  positive  atti- 
tude toward  earthly  life  and  human  institutions  than  seemed 
possible  under  the  ideals  of  primitive  Christianity.  The  early 
Christians  had  assumed  a  negative  attitude  toward  human  in- 
stitutions: marriage,  the  affairs  of  State,  war,  the  administra- 
tion of  justice,  commercial  pursuits,  and  so  on.  But  with  the 
development  of  an  organized  Church  and  the  Christianization 
of  the  Roman  Empire,  a  change  became  necessary:  the  imme- 
diate result  of  this  change  was  a  kind  of  oscillation  between 
world-denial  and  world-affirmation.  We  find  it  in  Augustine: 
he  wavers  between  the  ascetic  ideal  and  the  worldly  ideal.  His 
attitude  is  the  characteristic  attitude  of  medieval  moralists. 
Thus,  he  recognizes  the  right  of  property;  he  does  not  agree 
with  the  old  Fathers  that  property  is  based  on  injustice,  that 
all  have  an  equal  right  to  property,  that  wealth  is  a  "  damnable 
usurpation  "  (Ambrose).  He  also  regards  rich  and  poor  alike 
as  capable  of  salvation.  Nevertheless,  he  looks  upon  the  posses- 
sion of  private  property  as  a  hindrance  to  the  soul,  and  places 
a  higher  value  upon  poverty.  Let  us,  therefore,  abstain  from  the 
possession  of  private  property,  he  says,  or  if  we  cannot  do  that, 
let  us  abstain  from  the  love  of  possession.  The  same  dualism 
confronts  us  in  the  estimate  of  marriage  and  virginity:  mar- 


WORLD- VIEW  OF  AUGUSTINE  l$S 

riage  is  conceived  as  a  sacrament,  and  yet  the  unmarried  state 
is  the  highest. 

His  conception  of  the  State  reveals  the  same  thing.  The 
earthly  State  is  based  on  self-love  and  even  contempt  of  God 
(contemptus  Dei)  ;  the  City  of  God,  on  love  of  God  and  contempt 
of  self.  Nevertheless,  the  temporal  State  is  an  ethical  com- 
munity with  the  mission  to  promote  earthly  happiness,  and 
justice  reigns  in  it.  But  its  goal  is  relative,  while  that  of  the 
Church  is  absolute ;  hence,  the  State  is  subordinate  to  the  Church ; 
the  authority  of  the  Church  is  infallible,  it  is  the  visible  appear- 
ance of  the  kingdom  of  God. 

In  short,  we  find  in  Augustine  a  twofold  ideal.  The  highest 
good  or  perfection  is  a  transcendent  good,,  which  even  the  Chris- 
tian is  unable  to  realize  in  the  flesh,  being  still  under  the  sway 
of  carnal  concupiscence :  consequently,  his  perfection  consists 
in  love  of  God,  in  the  good  will.  A  certain  degree  of  perfection, 
however,  a  kind  of  holiness,  may  be  reached  by  the  performance 
of  certain  external  works:  venial  sins  may  be  wiped  out  by 
prayer,  fasting,  alms.  Yet  the  supreme  and  true  goal  is,  after 
all,  renunciation  of  the  world3  withdrawal  from  social  life, 
asceticism,  imitation  of  Christ.  The  monastic  life  remains,  for 
Augustine,  the  Christian  ideal. 

The  leading  trait  of  this  ethical  teaching  is  its  idealism.  The 
greatest  thing  in  the  universe  is  not  the  material  aspect  of  exist- 
ence, but  spirit ;  the  greatest  thing  in  man  is  not  body,  not  his 
sensuous-impulsive  nature,  not  the  satisfaction  of  appetite,  but 
spirit* 

Augustine  opposes  the  Pelagian  theory  of  the  will.    Man  was, 
indeed,  free  to  sin  or  not  to  sin  in  Adam ;  God  not  only  created 
him  free,  but  also  endowed  him  with  supernatural 
gifts  of  grace :  immortality,  holiness,  justice,  free-  t^^ry]  ° 
dom  from  rebellious  desire.     But  Adam  chose  to 
disobey  God  and  thereby  not  only  lost  the  divine  gifts,  but  I 
corrupted  the  entire  human  race,  so  that  it  has  become  a  ' '  mass  j 
of  perdition. "     The  first  man  transmitted  his  sinful  nature,/ 
and  the  punishment  necessarily  connected  with  it,  to  his  off-' 
spring,  for  he  represented  the  whole  human  race.    And  now  it 
is  impossible  for  man  not  to  sin  (nan  posse  non  peccare) :  he 
went  into  sin  free  and  came  out  of  it  unfree.     Adam's  sin  is 


154  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

not  merely  the  beginning  and  example  of  sin,  it  is  original, 
hereditary  sin.  The  result  of  it  all  is  that  the  entire  human 
race  stands  condemned,  and  no  one  will  be  saved  from  merited 
punishment  except  by  the  mercy  and  unmerited  grace  of  God. 
God  alone  can  reform  corrupted  man.  He  does  not  select  the 
recipients  of  his  grace  according  to  their  good  works, — indeed, 
the  works  of  sinful  man  cannot  be  good  in  the  true  sense  of 
the  term, — only  those  whom  God  has  elected  as  marks  of  his 
grace  can  perform  good  works:  "  the  human  will  does  not 
achieve  grace  by  an  act  of  freedom,  but  rather  achieves  freedom 
by  grace."  That  is,  God  can  bring  about  such  a  change  in  the 
human  soul  as  will  give  it  the  love  of  the  good  which  it  pos- 
sessed before  Adam  fell.  The  knowledge  and  love  of  the  high- 
est good,  or  God,  restores  to  man  the  power  to  do  good  works, 
the  power  to  turn  away  from  the  life  of  sense  to  God :  in  other 
words,  the  power  of  freedom,  the  will  to  emancipate  himself 
from  the  flesh.  Freedom  means  love  of  the  good;  that  is,  only 
the  good  will  is  free. 

The  thought  underlying  this  teaching  is  that  unless  a  man 
has  a  notion  of  the  good,  unless  he  knows  what  is  truly  good 
and  loves  it,  he  is  lost.  Some  men  have  the  good  will,  others 
are  without  it.  Augustine's  problem  is  to  account  for  its  ap- 
pearance in  some  persons  and  not  in  others,  and  he  explains  it 
as  a  free  gift  of  God. 

Why  God  should  have  chosen  some  for  eternal  happiness  and 
others  for  eternal  punishment  is  a  mystery;  but  there  is  no 
injustice  in  his  choice,  since  man  has  forfeited  any  claim  he 
may  have  had  to  salvation.  Yet,  is  not  predestination  identical 
with  fatalism ;  does  it  not  mean  that  God  has  determined  before- 
hand who  shall  be  saved  and  who  destroyed,  and  that  his  choice 
is  purely  arbitrary  ?  Predestination  is  the  eternal  resolve  of  God 
to  lead  this  or  that  man  to  eternal  life  by  the  infallible  means 
of  grace.  Predestination  implies  foreknowledge  of  his  choice. 
But  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  man's  freedom,  Augustine 
thinks:  he  was  free  to  choose  eternal  life,  he  did  not  choose  it; 
God  knew  that  he  would  not,  and  has  decided  beforehand  whom 
to  save.  Here,  again,  we  have  an  example  of  Augustine's  con- 
ception of  the  absolute  power  of  God;  he  is  unwilling  to  limit 
divine  freedom  in  the  slightest  degree :  God  can  do  as  he  pleases 


DARK  AGES  155 

with  man,  and  he  has  settled  from  all  eternity  what  is  going 
to  happen  to  every  individual.  Man  has  had  his  chance  in 
Adam;  he  abused  the  privilege,  and  God  knew  he  would  abuse 
it;  but  he  was  under  no  compulsion  to  go  wrong  and  he  has 
no  right  to  complain  if  he  is  not  among  the  elect.  Nevertheless, 
if  he  truly  loves  God,  if  he  has  the  holy  will,  he  is  redeemed. 

Those  whom  God  has  chosen  for  redemption  constitute  the 
City  of  God,  and  those  who  are  chosen  for  destruction  form 
the  city  of  this  world,  the  kingdom  of  evil.  Human  history  rep- 
resents a  struggle  between  the  two  kingdoms,  the  last  stage  of 
which  is  the  period  inaugurated  by  Christ,  through  whom  divine 
grace  is  bestowed.  The  kingdom  of  God  reaches  its  perfection 
in  the  Christian  Church:  it  is  the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth. 
No  one  can  be  saved  outside  of  the  Church,  although  not  every 
one  in  it  will  be  saved.  Who  is  to  be  saved,  no  one  knows. 
The  battle  between  the  forces  of  good  and  evil  will  end  in  the 
victory  of  the  righteous;  then  will  follow  the  great  Sabbath, 
in  which  the  members  of  the  City  of  God  will  enjoy  eternal 
blessedness,  while  the  children  of  evil  will  suffer  eternal  punish- 
ment in  the  eternal  fire  together  with  the  devil. 


BEGINNINGS  OF  SCHOLASTICISM 

20.   DARK  AGES 

Patristic  philosophy  reached  its  climax  in  the  system  of  Au- 
gustine, which  was  the  last  great  product  of  classical-Christian 

civilization  and  a  heritage  bequeathed  by  dying 

,..,.,,,.  _,  New  Peoples 

antiquity  to  its  barbarian  successors.    The  century 

that  had  given  birth  to  this  work  also  witnessed  the  downfall  of 
the  Western  Roman  Empire  and  the  rise  to  political  power  of 
the  young  and  vigorous  peoples  of  the  North.  The  Visigoths 
took  possession  of  Gaul  and  Spain,  the  Vandals  overran  Africa, 
and  the  Ostrogoths  placed  themselves  on  the  throne  of  the 
Caesars  (476).  The  problem  now  became  to  amalgamate  Roman- 
Christian  culture  with  the  notions  and  institutions  of  the  Ger- 
manic peoples,  a  task  which  required  a  thousand  years  to 
complete.  During  this  period,  called  the  Middle  Ages,  a  new 


156  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

civilization  is  slowly  developed  from  the  mixture  of  materials 
contributed  by  the  different  human  factors  involved,  and  a  new 
political,  social,  intellectual,  and  religious  order  arises.  How 
thoroughgoing  was  the  process  of  transformation  going  on,  may 
be  seen  from  the  evolution  of  new  languages,  new  states,  new 
customs  and  laws,  new  religions,  new  forms  of  life  of  every  kind ; 
the  old  civilization  disappeared  in  the  great  melting-pot  of  Euro- 
pean races.  The  completion  of  the  process  marks  the  beginning 
of  the  modern  era. 

That  this  work  did  not  proceed  very  rapidly  is  not  surprising ; 
the  traditions  and  institutions  of  the  past  could  not  be  assimi- 
lated except  by  slow  degrees.  No  people  changes  its  life  all  at 
once,  and  no  people  is  ever  completely  transformed.  Before 
becoming  the  bearers  of  the  civilization  offered  by  Roman  Chris- 
tianity, the  barbarous  tribes  had  many  lessons  to  learn;  they 
were  obliged  to  assimilate  the  new  culture  with  their  own  organs ; 
it  had  to  pass  into  a  barbarian  soul  with  a  long  history  of  its 
own.  Nor  is  it  surprising  that  the  higher  culture  of  the  old 
world  should  have  fallen  into  neglect  and  that  the  field  of  phi- 
losophy, which  the  Christians  had  in  part  appropriated  and 
cultivated,  should  have  lain  fallow  for  many  centuries.  It  was 
no  time  for  the  construction  of  metaphysical  and  theological 
systems ;  the  age  was  confronted  with  serious  practical  problems 
in  every  department  of  human  activity.  Besides,  philosophy  is 
a  man's  business,  and  the  new  peoples  were  still  in  their  school- 
days. The  very  elements  and  instruments  of  knowledge  had 
first  to  be  acquired  before  they  could  appreciate  the  highest 
achievements  of  a  cultivated  race.  The  immediate  problems  were 
pedagogical,  and  the  learned  literature  of  the  period,  from  Au- 
gustine down  to  the  ninth  century,  was  largely  limited  to  text- 
books on  the  seven  liberal  arts  and  compendia  of  Christian 
dogmatics. 

Philosophy,  tethered  as  it  was  to  Christian  theology,  was 
merely  preserving  the  traditions  of  the  past.  In  the  more  culti- 
vated Eastern  Empire  interest  in  theological  questions  was  well- 
nigh  universal,  but  it  expressed  itself  in  fruitless  dogmatic  con- 
troversies and  in  the  production  of  encyclopedic  manuals  or 
systematized  collections  of  the  dogmas,  like  that  of  John  of 
Damascus  (around  700).  In  the  West,  scientific,  logical,  and 


DARK  AGES  157 

philosophical  text-books  and  commentaries  were  written  by  Mar- 
tianus  Capella  (around  430),  Boethius  (480-525),  and  Cassio- 
dorus  (477-570),  while  Isidore  of  Seville  (+636)  and  the 
Venerable  Bede  (674-735)  achieved  an  easy  fame  for  learning 
by  compiling  compendia  remarkable  only  for  their  meagerness 
of  original  thought.  For  several  centuries  there  were  practically 
two  distinct  literatures  running  along  side  by  side,  the  classical 
and  the  Christian ;  for  the  hybrid  Christian  works  many  educated 
Greeks  and  Romans  had  nothing  but  contempt.  Of  the  classical 
philosophy,  which  continued  along  the  lines  of  Stoicism,  Neo- 
pythagoreanism,  and  .Neoplatonism  we  have  already  spoken  in 
our  account  of  Greek  thought. 

With  the  conversion  of  the  educated  classes  in  the  Roman 
Empire,  and  the  development  of  the  ecclesiastical  organization, 
the  Christian  clergy  had  gradually  assumed  the 
intellectual  leadership  which  formerly  rested  in  the 
philosophers'  schools,  and  had  become  the  custo- 
dians of  learning;  nearly  all  the  great  writers  in  the  East  and 
West  belonged  to  the  clergy.  At  the  beginning  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  however,  with  the  ascendency  of  the  Germanic  races,  the 
torch  of  knowledge  flickered  dimly,  and  the  secular  Christian 
clergy,  recruited  now,  for  the  most  part,  from  the  sons  of  bar- 
barians, found  neither  pleasure  nor  honor  in  the  cultivation  of 
Greek  philosophy,  literature,  and  art.  The_  seventh  and  eighth 
centuries  constitute  perhaps  the  darkest  period  of  our  Western 
European  civilization,  a  period  of  boundless  ignorance  and  bru- 
tality, in  which  the  literary  and  artistic  achievements  of  the 
classical  past  seemed  destined  to  be  lost  in  the  general  ruin.  It 
was  during  this  bleak  age  that  the  monasteries  became  the  ref- 
uge, not  only  of  the  persecuted  and  oppressed,  but  of  the  despised 
and  neglected  liberal  arts.  In  them,  what  had  survived  of 
literature,  science,  and  art  was  being  preserved  and  cultivated; 
manuscripts  were  copied  and  the  love  of  higher  spiritual  ideals 
kept  alive.  The  monasteries  also  established  schools,  and  gave 
instruction,  meager  and  barren  though  it  was.  A  more  hopeful 
epoch  began  when  Charlemagne,  in  order  to  encourage  education, 
called  scholars  to  his  realm  and  founded  schools  in  which  the 
seven  liberal  arts  (grammar,  rhetoric,  logic,  arithmetic,  geome- 
try, astronomy,  and  music)  were  taught:  Paul  the  Deacon  (the 


158  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

historian  of  the  Lombards),  Einhard,  Angilbert,  and,  greatest 
of  all,  the  Anglo-Saxon  Alcuin  (735-804),  a  pupil  of  the  monas- 
tic school  at  York,  who  became  the  Emperor's  chief  adviser  in 
matters  of  education,  and  who  seems  to  have  succeeded  in  arous- 
ing a  lively  interest  in  philosophical  questions  at  his  monastic 
school  at  Tours.  Alcuin  himself  wrote  text-books  on  grammar, 
rhetoric,  and  dialectics, — the  trivium, — and  a  work  on  psy- 
chology that  shows  the  influence  of  the  Platonic-AugustiniaD 
conceptions.  Among  his  pupils  were  Fredegisus  (author  of 
De  nihilo  et  tenebris')  and  Rabanus  Maurus  (776-856),  com- 
pilator  and  text-book  writer,  who  has  been  called  the  creator  ol 
the  German  schools. 

No  work  of  any  importance  to  the  history  of  thought  appeared, 
however,  until  the  middle  of  the  ninth  century,  when  John  Scotus 
Erigena  (or  Eriugena)  published  a  book  which  may  be  regarded 
as  the  continuation  of  Patristic  philosophy  and  the  forerunner 
of  a  new  era  in  the  history  of  Christian  thinking.  To  this  period, 
which  has  received  the  name  of  Scholasticism,  we  shall  now 
turn,  outlining  first  the  general  characteristics  of  the  Middle 
Ages. 

Church,  Beginning  of  the  Middle  Ages;  P.  Munroe,  History  of  Edu- 
cation; Graves,  History  of  Medieval  Education,  chaps,  i-iv;  Mullinger, 
The  Schools  of  Charles  the  Great;  Lecky,  op.  cit.,  chap,  iv;  Gaskoin, 
Alcuin;  West,  Alcuin  and  the  Eise  of  Christian  Schools;  Werner, 
Alcuin  und  sein  Jahrhundert.  Feasy,  Monasticism ;  Wishart,  Short 
History  of  Monks  and  Monasteries;  Gasquet,  English  Monastic  Life; 
Zockler,  Askese  und  Monchtum;  Heimbucher,  Orden  und  Kongrega- 
tionen,  3  vols.;  A.  Harnack,  Monasticism,  transl.  by  Kellett  and 
Marseille. 

21.    SPIRIT  OP  THE  MIDDLE  AGES  AND  CHRISTIAN  PHILOSOPHY 

During  the  Middle  Ages,  the  words  authority,  obedience, 
subordination,  form  important  terms  in  fne  vocabulary  of  life. 
In  politics,  religion,  morals,  education,  philosophy, 
0  science>  literature,  art, — in  every  sphere  of  human 
activity, — the  influence  of  organized  Christianity 
is  supreme.  As  the  vice-gerent  of  God  on  earth  and  the  source 
of  revealed  truth,  the  Church  becomes  the  guardian  of  education, 
the  censor  of  morals,  the  court  of  last  resort  in  intellectual  and 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES  159 

spiritual  affairs,  indeed  the  organ  of  civilization  and  the  bearer 
of  the  keys  of  heaven.  Since  she  receives  the  truth  from  God 
direct,  what  need  is  there  of  searching  for  it:  what  need  of 
philosophy  except  as  the  handmaiden  of  theology?  Human 
reason  is  limited  to  systematizing  and  rendering  intelligible  the 
revealed  truths  or  dogmas  of  the  Christian  religion.  The  indi- 
vidual is  subordinate  to  the  Church  in  his  religious  beliefs  and 
practices,  the  Church  stands  between  him  and  his  God;  in  all 
the  important  matters  of  life  and  death,  the  shadow  of  the  cross 
appears.  There  is  no  salvation  for  the  individual  outside  the 
great  City  of  God,  which  watches  him  from  the  cradle  to  the 
grave  and  even  gives  him  his  passports  to  heaven.  Education, 
too,  is  a  function  of  the  ecclesiastic  hierarchy:  to  be  sure,  who 
should  teach  God's  truth  but  the  mediator  through  whom  it  is 
revealed;  and  who,  besides,  exercise  the  censorship  over  human 
conduct  but  the  supreme  earthly  authority  of  right  and  justice  ? 
The  Church  likewise  holds  herself  superior  to  the  State  and 
seeks  to  apply  her  theory  in  practice,  as  witness  her  conflicts 
with  the  German  Emperors;  as  the  sun  is  to  the  moon,  so  is 
the  Church  to  the  State.  The  ambition  of  Pope  Innocent  III 
(1198-1216),  under  whom  ecclesiastical  power  reached  its  climax, 
was  to  be  the  master  of  the  world.  The  State  itself  in  time  comes 
to  assume  the  same  attitude  of  authority  toward  the  people: 
kings  rule  by  divine  right  and  subjects  are  divinely  ordained 
to  obey.  "Within  the  body  politic  the  individual  finds  himself 
under  restraint  and  discipline,  socially,  politically,  economically : 
for  the  great  mass  obedience  is  the  law  of  life,  subjection  of  self 
to  the  authority  of  some  group:  obedience  to  the  ruler,  obedi- 
ence to  the  lord,  obedience  to  the  guild,  obedience  to  the  master, 
obedience  to  the  head  of  the  family.  Authority  and  tradition 
are  superior  to  public  opinion  and  the  individual  conscience; 
faith,  superior  to  reason;  the  corporation,  superior  to  the  per- 
son ;  and  the  caste,  superior  to  the  man. 

The  philosophical  thought  of  this  period  mirrors  the  spirit 
of  the  times.     Tradition  and  authority  play  a  leading  role  in 
it;  scholars  swear  by  the  Church,  by  Augustine, 
Plato  or  Aristotle,  by  their  monastic  orders  or  by   scholasticism 
their  schools.     Assuming  the  truth  of  the  church 
doctrines  and  yet  feeling  a  strong  desire  for  speculation,  they 


160  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

endeavor  to  harmonize,  wherever  they  can,  by  reading  the  Chris- 
tian faith  into  their  philosophies  or  their  philosophies  into  the 
Christian  faith.  But  the  faith  is  the  beginning  and  the  end  of 
their  labors,  theology  the  crown  of  all  knowledge,  the  royal 
science.  And  even  where  knowledge  is  dumb,  where  reason 
stumbles,  the  truths  of  religion  are  still  believed,  all  the  more 
firmly  believed  by  some  because  of  their  mystery;  and  specu- 
lative theology  is  either  cast  aside  as  futile  or  consolation  sought 
in  the  principle  of  a  twofold  truth, — truth  of  reason  and  truth 
of  faith. 

Patristic  philosophy  had  been  occupied  in  developing  and 
formulating  the  articles  of  faith  and  organizing  them  into  a 
rational  system.  Scholasticism  is  confronted  with  a  fixed  body 
of  established  doctrine  when  it  enters  upon  the  scene ;  the  proc- 
ess of  fermentation  had  practically  come  to  an  end.  It  is  con- 
fronted, likewise,  with  an  organized  hierarchy,  ready  and  able 
to  defend  its  truths  against  all  dissenters  with  the  weapons 
of  Church  and  State.  The  problem  now  is  to  work  out  a  system 
of  thought  that  will  square  with  the  dogmas,  that  is,  harmonize 
Science  and  Faith.  The  schoolmen,  like  the  Greek  philosophers 
before  them,  aim  at  a  rational  explanation  of  things ;  only  they 
approach  the  task  with  a  definite  preconception  of  the  goal. 
Certain  fundamental  truths  are  already  known;  the  scheme  of 
salvation  is  itself  a  universal  fact ;  the  business  of  the  philosopher 
is  to  interpret  it,  to  connect  it  with  the  rest  of  our  knowledge 
or  to  render  it  intelligible.  The  assumption  of  the  medieval 
thinker  is  either  that  the  truths  of  religion  are  rational,  that  rea- 
son and  faith  agree,  that  there  can  be  no  conflict  between  divine 
revelation  and  human  thinking;  or  that,  even  though  some  of 
them  may  transcend  human  reason,  they  are,  none  the  less,  guar- 
anteed by  faith,  which  is  another  source  of  knowledge.  Under 
such  circumstances,  a  number  of  alternatives  are  possible.  The 
thinker  may  start  out  with  the  Christian  world-view  and  prove 
it  with  the  help  of  philosophy  or  some  particular  system  of 
philosophy ;  or  he  may  develop  a  system  of  philosophy  of  his  own 
in  harmony  with  Christian  principles ;  or  he  may  give  his  atten- 
tion to  problems  that  have  no  direct  connection  with  theology. 
In  any  case,  however,  the  dogma  will  be  the  regulative  principle  ; 
the  schoolman  will  not  knowingly  accept  as  true  a  proposition 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES  161 

contradicting  an  essential  article  of  faith,  at  least  not  without 
offering  some  explanation  leaving  the  truth  of  the  dogma  unim- 
paired. He  may  satisfy  himself,  in  some  way,  that  both  propo- 
sitions are  true  even  though  contradictory,  but  he  will  not  drop 
the  dogma. 

The  purpose  of  scholasticism  determines  its  method :  in  so  far 
as  it  consists  in  the  demonstration  of  propositions  already  ac- 
cepted, it  will  largely  employ  deduction.  The 
nature  of  these  propositions,  and  the  need  of  prov-  Characteris- 
ing them,  account  for  several  other  characteristics  Scholasticism 
of  scholastic  philosophy.  The  object  of  chief  in- 
terest to  the  schoolman  is  the  transcendent  world,  the  world 
of  God,  the  angels,  and  the  saints;  his  thought  is  fixed  not  so 
much  on  things  of  this  phenomenal  order  as  upon  the  invisible 
realm  of  spirits.  This  explains  the  great  importance  of  theology 
and  the  relative  unimportance  of  the  natural  and  mental  sci- 
ences in  scholasticism.  It  also  explains  the  failure  of  the 
schoolmen  to  occupy  themselves  with  an  empirical  study  of 
subjects  in  which  they  had  an  interest,  namely,  psychology  and 
ethics.  They  did  not  care  so  much  about  how  the  soul  acts,  as 
about  its  ultimate  nature  and  destiny ;  and  that,  in  their  opinion, 
could  not  be  learned  by  analyzing  its  contents.  Nor  did  it  seem 
possible  to  appeal  to  the  world  of  experience  for  an  answer  to 
the  questions  of  ethics.  The  highest  good  is  the  blessed  life  in 
God,  that  is  settled ;  but  there  are  no  empirical  means  of  finding 
the  way  to  such  a  life :  it  is  bestowed  by  divine  grace  upon  those 
who  do  the  will  of  God.  Obedience  to  the  will  of  God  is  the 
standard  of  right  and  wrong ;  what  his  will  is  cannot  be  discov- 
ered from  an  analysis  of  experience;  it  is  a  divine  revelation. 
Scholastic  ethics  cannot  abandon  the  field  of  theology. 

The  truth  is,  the  world  about  which  the  schoolman  is  chiefly 
concerned  is  not  perceivable  by  the  senses;  he  is  dependent  on 
his  thinking  for  the  knowledge  of  which  he  is  in  search.  Logic, 
therefore,  is  a  most  important  study  for  him,  particularly  de- 
ductive or  syllogistic  logic:  the  logic  of  the  method  which  he 
employs  in  his  pursuit  of  truth.  In  this  field  the  schoolmen 
evinced  great  subtlety,  not  only  in  analyzing  logical  processes, 
but,  especially,  in  developing  conceptions  which  have  become  a 
part  of  our  intellectual  heritage, — for  better  or  for  worse.  The 


162  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

theory  of  knowledge  did  not  make  great  strides  with  them :  the 
possibility  and  the  limits  of  knowledge  did  not,  as  a  rule,  strike 
them  as  problematical;  they  cherished  an  abiding  dogmatic 
faith  in  the  ability  of  reason  to  reach  a  certain  kind  of  truth. 
The  nominalists,  to  be  sure,  took  up  the  question  of  the  validity 
of  knowledge,  but  the  nominalists  are  no  longer  genuine 
schoolmen. 

We  can  distinguish  in  scholasticism  several  important  phases. 
We  have  already  called  attention  to  John  Scotus  Erigena,  who 

may  be  regarded  as  the  precursor  of  the  movement, 
Scholasticism    although   his   system   is   by   no   means   a   typical 

scholastic  system.  The  period  beginning  with  the 
ninth  and  ending  with  the  twelfth  century  is  largely  influenced 
by  Platonic  conceptions;  Platonism,  Neoplatonism,  and  Augus- 
tinianism  are  the  dominant  philosophical  forces.  Ideas  or  uni- 
versals  are  conceived,  in  the  Platonic  sense,  as  the  real  essences  v 
of  things  and  as  prior  to  things  (universalia  sunt  realia  ante 
res).  This  is  Platonic  realism,  of  which  Anselm  is  the  leading 
representative.  The  thirteenth  century  witnesses  the  rise  of 
Aristotle's  philosophy;  Christianity  allies  itself  with  the  great 
Greek  thinker;  universals  are  now  conceived  as  real,  not,  how- 
ever, as  prior  to  thmgs7"But  in  them  (universalia  sunt  realia  in 
rebus}.  This  teaching  is  called  Aristotelian  realism.  The  thir- 
teenth century  is  the  period  of  comprehensive  systems ;  the  lead- 
ing thinkers  being  Albert  the  Great  and  Thomas  Aquinas.  The 
period  of  bloom  is  followed  by  a  period  of  decline  (from  the 
scholastic  standpoint)  in  the  fourteenth  century;  universals  are 
now  regarded,  not  as  the  essences  of  things,  but  as  mere  con- 
cepts in  the  mind  or  as  mere  words  or  names  (nomina)  :  par- 
ticular things  alone  are  real  (universalia  sunt  realia  post  res). 
This  is  nominalism.  John  Duns  Scotus  and  William  of  Occam 
are  the  leaders  of  this  movement,  the  consequences  of  which  are 
destructive  of  scholastic  presuppositions.  For  scholastic  realism 
the  universe  is,  as  it  was  for  Plato  and  Aristotle,  an  ideal  uni- 
verse, a  system  of  ideas  or  forms,  which  are  somehow  mirrored 
in  the  phenomenal  world  as  the  essential  qualities  of  things.  It 
is  a  rational,  logical  world,  and  can,  therefore,  be  thought  out: 
the  reason  expressed  in  it  is  the  same  reason  that  reveals  itself 
in  the  human  mind.  The  forms,  which  make  the  objects  of  a 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES  168 

class  what  they  are,  agree  with  our  thoughts  or  universal  notions. 
Now,  if  such  universal  ideas  are  merely  thoughts  in  our  heads 
or,  worse  yet,  mere  names,  if  there  is  nothing  real  corresponding 
to  them,  in  things  or  apart  from  things,  then  we  can  have  no 
knowledge,  through  them,  of  things,  no  rational  knowledge  of 
the  universe  and  universals.  Belief  in  the  power  of  reason  to 
reach  truth  is  weakened  or  breaks  down  entirely.  The  philosophy 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  in  other  words,  does  not  remain  true  to  its 
scholastic  principles,  and  scholasticism  loses  its  vogue  in  the  . 
fourteenth  century. 

This  means  that  the  union  between  reason  and  faith,  philoso- 
phy and  religion,  becomes  less  firm.  The  view  that  the  doctrines 
of  faith  and  the  deliverances  of  reason  agree,  is  gradually  modi- 
fied. It  is  held,  either  that  some  of  the  dogmas  can  be  explained 
or  rendered  intelligible  and  that  others  transcend  reason;  or 
that  none  can  be  explained,  that  they  are  not  objects  of  philo- 
sophical knowledge  at  all,  that  the  truths  of  religion  lie  beyond 
the  reach  of  reason,  that  reason  cannot  fathom  them.  The  latter 
view  amounts  to  the  abandonment  of  scholasticism  as  such  and 
leads  to  the  deliverance  of  philosophy  from  servitude  to  dog- 
matic theology. 

The  sources  on  which  the  early  schoolmen  depended  were  Patristic 
literature,  Greek  philosophy,  and,  later,  Arabian  and  Jewish  specula- 
tions. The  Greek  philosophical  material  at  their  « 
disposal,  down  to  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century,  k 
consisted  of  Latin  translations  of :  parts  of  Plato's  Timceus  (by  Cicero 
and  Chalcidius),  Aristotle's  Categories  and  Interpretation  (by  Bo- 
ethius), Porphyry's  Introduction  to  the  Categories  (by  Boethius  and 
Victorinus).  Plato's  Meno  and  Phcedo  were  translated  in  the  twelfth 
century,  Nemesius,  On  the  Nature  of  Man,  in  the  middle  of  the  eleventh. 
Of  Latin  philosophers  they  knew  the  writings  of  Boethius,  Martianus 
Capella,  Cassiodorus,  Claudianus  Mamertus ;  Victorinus,  On  Definition; 
Apuleius,  On  Plato's  Doctrine;  Pseudo-Apuleius,  Asclepius;  Macro- 
bius;  the  Pseudo-Dionysius ;  Isidore  of  Seville.  Aristotle's  Analytics 
and  Topics  became  known  in  translation  after  1128,  and  the  meta- 
physical and  physical  works  about  1200. 

Cf.  Turner,  History  of  Philosophy,  p.  243;  Ueberweg-Heinze,  Ger- 
man edition,  Part  II,  §  21,  fine  print,  §  18,  fine  print.  For  special 
bibliography  on  Scholasticism  see  Ueberweg-Heinze,  §  19,  and  Picavet, 
Philosophies  medievales,  pp.  xv-xxxiv. 


164,  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 


22.   JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA 

At  the  end  of  the  fifth  century  a  collection  of  writings  appeared  which 
were  falsely  attributed  to  Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  the  supposed  first 
Bishop  of  Athens,  but  which  breathe  the  spirit  of  Neoplatonism.  They 
aroused  great  interest  and  exerted  a  profound  influence  on  medieval 
thought.  Among  those  who  came  under  the  spell  of  their  mystical 
pantheism  was  John  Scotus  Erigena,  who  translated  them  into  Latin 
and  reared  a  system  of  philosophy  upon  their  foundation.  He  was 
born  in  Ireland  in  810,  educated  in  the  Irish  schools,  and  called  by 
Charles  the  Bald  to  head  the  Schola  Palatina  at  Paris.  The  date  of 
his  death  is  unknown,  though  he  is  supposed  to  have  lived  until  877. 
His  philosophy  is  presented  in  his  work  De  divisione  natures. 

Works  in  Migne,  Patrologia  Latina,  vol.  CXXII.  (The  works  of  the 
pseudo-Areopagite,  in  Greek  and  Latin,  in  Migne,  Patrologia  Grceca, 
vols.  Ill  and  IV;  English  translation  by  Parker.) 

Poole,  Medieval  Thought;  A.  Gardner,  John  the  Scot;  monographs 
by  Taillandier,  Huber,  Stockl,  Noack. 

Scotus  Erigena  identifies  theology  and  philosophy,  authority 
and  reason,  faith  and  knowledge,  holding  that  the  truths  of  reli- 

gion  are  rational  truths.  True  religion  and  true 
Knowledge  philosophy  are  the  same.  Faith  is  not  the  mere 

credulous  acceptance  of  a  proposition,  but  such 
acceptance  as  is  supported  by  reason ;  it  is  a  rational,  intelligent 
faith.  The  dogmas,  he  thinks,  are  truths  which  have  been  dis- 
covered by  reason  and  transmitted  by  the  Fathers  of  the  Church. 
In  order  to  justify  his  rationalistic  position,  Scotus  is  compelled 
to  make  frequent  use  of  allegory  in  interpreting  Scripture  and 
the  writings  of  the  church  authorities. 

The  theology  of  Scotus  moves  in  the  familiar  atmosphere  of 

Neoplatonism  and  Augustinian  ideas.     God  is  the  beginning, 

.  middle,  and  end  of  all  things ;  from  him  they  come, 

in  him  and  through  him  they  exist,  and  to  him  they 
will  return.  He  created  the  world  out  of  nothing,  or  out  of 
himself,  the  causeless  first  cause ;  or,  as  Scotus  expresses  it :  Na- 
ture (as  God)  is  an  uncreated  creator,  the  uncreated  creating 
principle  (natura  creans}.  He  created  the  world  according  to 
the  plan  or  eternal  patterns  in  his  mind  (the  Logos),  which  is 
an  expression  of  his  being:  his  intelligence  is  responsible  for 
the  form  and  order  in  things,  and  continues  to  act  on  them ;  or, 
as  Scotus  puts  it:  Nature  (as  Logos)  is  a  created  creator,  while 
nature  (as  the  things  produced  by  the  Logos)  is  created  and  non- 


JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA  165 

creative.  Everything,  physical  as  well  as  mental,  will  return 
to  God  and  be  eternally  at  rest,  for  he  is  the  ultimate  goal  of 
all  creation;  in  this  sense,  Scotus  calls  nature  (God)  the  un- 
created and  non-creating.  God,  as  being,  is  Father;  as  Logos, 
or  wisdom,  Son;  as  life,  Holy  Ghost. 

The  universe  is  an  expression  or  product  of  God's  essence: 
everything, — his  thought,  the  Logos,  the  phenomenal  world, — 
proceeds  from  him.  But  the  manifestation  is  not  separate  from 
God ;  it  is  not  something  cast  off,  but  the  living  garment  of  God. 
God  and  his  creation  are  one;  he  is  in  his  creation  and  his 
creation  in  him.  They  are  one  and  the  same  in  the  sense  that 
he  reveals  himself  in  creatures;  the  invisible  and  incomprehen- 
sible One  makes  himself  visible;  he  that  is  without  form  and 
quality  gives  himself  form  and  quality.  The  universe  appears 
to  man  as  a  divided,  manifold,  and  plural  universe,  as  a  theo- 
phany;  but,  in  principle,  it  is  one  single  undivided  whole,  a 
whole  in  which  all  opposites  are  reconciled. 

God,  then,  is  immanent  in  the  world;  but  he  is  also  tran- 
scendent. That  is,  Scotus  is  unwilling  to  conceive  the  universe 
as  exhausting  or  even  diminishing  the  divine  nature.  It  is  only 
a  partial  unfolding,  and  there  is  infinitely  more  than  is  ex- 
pressed. Just  as  one  light  can  be  seen  and  one  voice  heard  by 
many  persons  without  loss  to  the  light  or  voice,  so  all  things 
share  in  divine  existence  without  depriving  God  of  the  fullness 
of  his  being.  Consequently,  whatever  terms  we  may  employ  fail 
to  describe  him:  he  is  beyond  anything  language  can  express, 
far  beyond  all  the  categories  of  thought.  Yes,  to  predicate  any- 
thing of  him  is  to  limit  him ;  to  affirm  one  quality  is  to  negate 
another.  He  is  superessential :  he  transcends  goodness,  deity, 
truth,  eternity,  and  wisdom.  In  this  sense  he  is  the  ineffable, 
incomprehensible,  unknowable,  undefinable  principle,  of  whom 
nothing  and  yet  everything  (his  expression,  the  way  he  manifests 
himself)  can  be  predicated. 

From  this  pantheistic  doctrine  it  would  follow  that  man,  too, 
is  a  manifestation  of  the  divine  principle,  but  Scotus  is  not 
ready  to  draw  the  conclusion :  it  would  imply  human  determinism 
and  impute  evil  to  God.  Man  is  more  than  phenomenal  body, 
he  is  the  microcosm,  a  living  spirit,  and  responsible  for  his  fall 
from  God  self  ward.  God  cannot  be  the  cause  of  evil;  there  is 


166  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

no  idea  of  evil  in  God.  Evil  is  but  the  privation  of  good,  as 
Augustine  had  taught.  Through  a  union  with  human  nature, 
the  Logos  helps  to  redeem  men,  some  being  united  with  God, 
others  brought  back  to  their  original  love  of  God. 

As  all  things  come  from  God,  so  all  strive  to  return  to  him: 
he  is  both  the  source  and  goal  of  their  existence.  The  return 

to  God  is  made  possible  by  mystical  exaltation,  by 
Mysticism  ,  ,.  ,  .  ,.  .  , 

contemplating  his  divine  nature,  by  rising  above 

sense  and  reason  and  keeping  before  our  minds  nothing  but  the 
incomprehensible  transcendency  of  his  being.  In  this  state  of 
mystical  ignorance,  we  plunge  into  the  divine  darkness  and 
lose  ourselves  in  its  life. 

Scotus  Erigena  may  be  called  a  forerunner  of  scholasticism 
in  so  far  as  he  aims  to  render  the  Christian  conceptions  intel- 
ligible by  inserting  them  into  a  universal  system,  and  in  so  far 
as  his  philosophy  contains  the  germs  of  medieval  realism.  His 
thinking,  however,  was  far  too  independent,  and  his  teachings 
too  little  in  harmony  with  orthodox  views,  to  find  a  welcome 
among  the  Christian  scholars  of  his  time:  it  was  not  to  be 
expected  that  they  would  prefer  the  pseudo-Areopagite  to  Au- 
gustine. More  in  accordance  with  the  demands  of  the  age  was 
the  work  of  his  contemporary  Paschasius  Radbertus,  who  pre- 
sented Augustinian  thoughts  in  simplified  form. 

23.   PROBLEM  OF  UNIVERSALS  :  REALISM  AND  NOMINALISM 

The  appearance  of  John  Scotus  was  but  a  momentary  spark 
of  light  in  the  medieval  darkness ;  after  his  death  came  another 

long  interval  of  intellectual  quiet.  The  teachers  of 
Shi  e  *ke  "  seven  liberal  arts  "  continued  to  present  the 

traditional  dialectics  in  the  time-honored  text- 
books, and  did  not  expend  their  efforts  in  the  construction  of 
theologies.  They  had  their  Augustine  to  fall  back  on,  and,  if 
pantheistically  inclined,  could  revel  in  the  pantheistic  mysticism 
of  the  pseudo-Dionysius,  whose  writings  were  now  available  in 
a  Latin  translation  by  Scotus  Erigena,  or  study  the  books  of 
Scotus  himself.  In  their  logical  studies,  however,  they  were 
giving  some  attention  to  a  question  which  had  a  bearing  on  the 
theory  of  knowledge  and  metaphysics;  and  which  was  destined 


REALISM  AND  NOMINALISM  167 

to  become  the  paramount  issue  in  the  history  of  scholasticism. 
The  question  was,  as  Porphyry  phrased  it  in  his  Introduction, 
whether  universals  (genera  and  species)  are  real  substances  or  ex- 
ist merely  in  the  mind,  whether  in  case  they  are  realities  they  are 
corporeal  or  incorporeal,  and  whether  they  exist  apart  from  con- 
crete sensible  things  or  in  them.  It  was  the  problem  of  the  sub- 
stantiality of  the  Platonic  ideas  and  Aristotelian  forms,  a  problem 
that  had  played  such  a  significant  part  in  the  theories  of  the  great 
Greek  philosophers.  The  various  logical  treatises  which  had  been 
transmitted  to  the  period  we  are  now  considering,  gave  different 
answers  to  the  question.  Some  declared  for  Platonic  realism 
(universals  are  realities  prior  to  things),  some  for  Aristotelian 
realism  (universals  are  realities  in  things),  others  for  nomi- 
nalism (universals  are  mere  names  for  particular  things,  not 
prior  to  them,  nor  in  them,  but  after  them).  Porphyry  was  a 
decided  realist;  Boethius,  Macrobius,  and  Chalcidius  took  mid- 
dle ground,  while  Martianus  Capella  was  a  clear  and  outspoken 
nominalist.  John  Scotus  himself  was  a  realist:  he  conceived 
universals  as  existing  prioiL.tQ  .particular  objects  a§_wjelL_as  in 
them;  the  phenomenal  world,  as  an  expression  of  the  thought 
of  God,  cannot  exist  apart  from  them.  Such  views  were  also 
held  during  the  ninth  and  tenth  centuries  in  more  or  less  unde- 
veloped form,  but  not  definitely  worked  out  until  later.  Many 
of  the  logicians,  unacquainted  with  Aristotle's  works,  accepted 
the  Aristotelian  conception  that  particulars  are  the  true  realities, 
but  interpreted  it  in  a  vague  nominalistic  sense;  they  did  not  " 
make  clear  to  themselves  exactly  what  nominalism  implied. 

Barach,  Geschichte  des  Nominalismus  vor  Eoscellin. 

To  be  mentioned  in  this  connection  are:  Eric  of  Auxerre;  his  pupil 
Remigius;  the  work  Super  Porphyrium  by  a  pupil  of  Rabanus 
Maurus, — all  of  the  ninth  century;  Poppo,  Reinhard,  Notker  Labeo 
(+1022),  Gerbert  (died  1003  as  Pope  Sylvester  II),  Fulbert  (1029), 
Berengar  of  Tours  (+1088).  The  interest  in  these  subjects  became 
so  keen  that  some  of  the  more  conservative  churchmen  protested 
against  the  attempts  of  the  dialecticians  to  subordinate  the  teachings 
of  Scripture  to  the  authority  of  dialectics;  and  Petrus  Damiani  (1007- 
1072)  declared  that  logic  should  be  ancilla  Domini,  the  handmaiden 
of  the  Lord. 

The  full  significance  of  the  teachings  of  realism  and  nomi- 
nalism and  their  bearing  on  metaphysics  and  theology  were  not 


168  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

understood  until  the  second  half  of  the  eleventh  century, — not 

until  they  had  been  practically  tried  out,  as  it  were.    Roscelin  * 

taught  a  pronounced  nominalism  and  made  it  the 

Nominalism  basis  of  his  interPretation  of  the  Trinity.  His 
argument  was  as  follows :  Particular  substances 
alone  exist,  general  concepts  are  mere  names  and  words  by 
means  of  which  we  define  particular  objects.  Hence,  there  is 
no  single  reality  corresponding  to  the  general  name  Qod;  the 
notion  of  the  Godhead,  which  we  apply  to  the  Trinity,  is  a  mere 
name  or  word.  There  is  not  one  substance  God,  but  three  par- 
ticular substances  or  persons,  who,  however,  are  equal  in  power. 

This  view  was  in  direct  opposition  to  the  official  trinitarian 
doctrine  and  aroused  great  indignation  and  opposition.  The 
Council  of  Soissons  (1092)  condemned  Roscelin 's 
Realfenf  °''  interpretation  of  the  Trinity  and  compelled  him 
to  recant.  Although  nominalism  as  such  was  not 
included  in  the  condemnation,  it  lost  prestige  and  did  not 
reappear  until  the  fourteenth  century.  The  schoolmen  adopted, 
instead,  Platonic  realism,  which,  though  modified  and  developed 
in  various  ways,  remained  the  dominant  conception  throughout 
the  twelfth  century.  It  was  well  suited  to  ward  off  just  such 
attacks  as  Roscelin  had  made  on  the  Trinity,  and  to  give  rational 
support  to  the  entire  Church  doctrine.  If  universals  are  real, 
if  they  are  not  mere  tags  or  labels  for  groups  of  particular 
things,  then  the  notion  of  the  Trinity  can  mean  more  than  the 
sum  of  three  persons.  The  dispute  over  the  question  of  uni- 
versals was  more  than  a  logical  quibble;  far-reaching  meta- 
physical and  theological  implications  were  involved  in  the 
answers.  The  view  that  our  general  concepts,  our  logical 
thoughts,  are  not  mere  subjective  ideas  in  the  mind,  but  have 
a  reality  of  their  own  apart  from  the  mind,  implies  that  the 
universe  is  rational  and  knowable.  It  implies  that  truth  is  not 
mere  subjective  opinion,  but  that  there  is  objective  truth,  uni- 
versally valid  truth,  and  that  it  is  the  business  of  philosophy 
to  realize  it  in  conceptual  thought.  It  implies  that  there  exist, 
besides  particular  individual  phenomena  which  arise  and  pass 
away,  permanent  realities,  which  never  die.  The  scholars  of  the 
Church  found  in  this  conception  a  splendid  foundation  upon 
*  See  Picavet,  Roscelin. 


ANSELM  OF  CANTERBURY  169 

which  to  rest  their  entire  intellectual  and  ecclesiastical  structure. 
God  is  such  a  universal  idea,  superior  to  and  outlasting  mere 
phenomenal  existence ;  mankind  is  such  a  universal  reality,  which 
was  corrupted  in  Adam  and  made  whole  again  in  Christ;  the 
Church  is  such  an  abiding  entity  over  and  above  the  temporal 
members  who  compose  it:  an  ideal  whole  not  affected  in  its 
essence  by  the  coming  and  going  of  its  parts.  We  see,  it  was 
not  by  a  mere  whim  that  the  orthodox  churchmen  shelved  nomi- 
nalism and  rallied  around  the  standard  of  Platonic  realism:  they  , 
chose  the  doctrine  which  gave  the  Christian  world-view  and 
scheme  of  life  a  meaning  in  their  eyes. 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  SCHOLASTIC  REALISM 

24.    ANSELM  OF  CANTERBURY 

Anselm  (1033-1109),  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  opposes  the 
nominalistic  heresies  of  Roscelin  in  a  system  of  thought  based 
on  Platonic  and  Augustinian  principles.    He  is  the 
true  type  of  the  schoolman ;  firmly  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  the  dogmas  and  yet  possessed  of  a  strong  philosophical 
impulse,  he  seeks  to  prove  to  reason  what  has  to  be  accepted  on  » 
authority.    He  bravely  includes  in  his  attempt  to  rationalize  the 
faith  not  only  such  general  propositions  as  the  existence  of  God, 
but  the  entire   church  scheme  of  salvation,   the   Trinity,  the 
Incarnation,  and  the  redemption  of  man.    We  must  believe  the 
Catholic  doctrine, — that  is  beyond  cavil, — but  we  should  also 
try  to  understand  what  we  believe,  understand  why  it  is  true; 
remembering  always,  however,  that  where  intelligence  fails  us, 
it  behooves  us  reverently  to  bow  to  faith. 

Among  Anselm's  works  we  mention:  Monologium;  Proslogium;  Cur 
Deus  homof  These  and  the  monk  Gaunilo's  criticism  of  Anselm's 
ontological  argument,  translated  by  S.  N.  Deane. 

Church,  St.  Anselm;  Rigg,  St.  Anselm;  Rule,  Life  and  Times  of  St. 
Anselm;  Pere  Ragey,  Histoire  de  St.  Anselme,  and  St.  Anselme  pro- 
fesseur;  de  Verges,  St.  Anselme;  also  books  by  Hasse,  Remusat, 
Mohler  (transl.). 

Anselm  bases  his  celebrated  proofs  for  the  existence  of  God 
on  the  Platonic  conception  that  universals  have  an  existence 


170  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

independent  of  particular  objects,  (fin  his  Monologium  (written 
about  1070)  he  makes  useljbf  the  cosmological  argument,  which 
had  already  been  employed  by  Augustine,  and  which  need  not 
be  repeated  here.  In  his  Proslogium,  however,  he  offers  another 
proof,  also  based  on  Platonic  realism,  the  so-called  ontological 
proof,  with  which  his  name  has  become  linked  in  the  history  of 
thought.  This  proof  consists  in  deducing  the  existence  of  God 
from  the  concept  of  God,  in  showing  that  the  very  idea  of  God 
implies  his  existence.  The  idea  of  God  is  the  notion  of  some- 
thing, greater  than  which  nothing  can  be  thought,  that  is,  the 
idea  of  a  perfect  being.  Now,  if  God  did  not  exist,  this  idea 
would  not  be  the  idea  of  the  greatest  thing  thinkable;  there 
would  be  something  greater  still.  The  idea  of  a  being  having 
existence  is  the  idea  of  a  more  perfect  being  than  the  idea  of 
one  having  no  existence.  Hence,  God  as  the  most  perfect  being 
must  exist.  That  is  what  Anselm  means  by  saying  the  perfec- 
tion of  God  implies  the  existence  of  God. 

This  conclusion,  however,  does  not  follow  from  Anselm 's 
premises.  His  reasoning  proves  no  more  than  that  when  we 
think  of  a  being  as  existing,  we  are  thinking  of  a  being  that  is 
more  perfect  than  a  non-existent  being.  The  notion  of  an  ex- 
isting being  is  the  notion  of  a  being  that  has  more  qualities  than 
a  being  conceived  as  not  having  existence.  He  does  not  prove 
that  God  exists,  but  merely  that  the  idea  of  an  existing  God 
connotes  or  means  more  than  a  mere  subjective  idea  of  God. 
And  looked  r  *  logically,  this  is  true ;  but  it  does  not  necessarily 
follow  from  the  notion  of  a  perfect  being,  which  notion  carries 
with  it  the  idea  of  existence,  that  such  a  being  exists.  It  must 
not  be  forgotten,  however,  that  the  ontological  argument  will 
seem  cogent  to  any  one  accepting  the  realistic  presupposition 
that  universals  have  an  extra-mental  reality. 

The  fallacy  in  Anselm 's  argument  was  exposed  by  the  monk 
Gaunilo  in  his  anonymously  published  book  Against  the  Reason- 
ing in  Anselm' s  Proslogium.  The  being  of  God  in  the  mind,  he 
declares,  is  the  same  as  the  being  of  any  other  thing  in  the  mind, 
that  is,  so  far  as  it  is  thought.  In  the  same  way  in  which 
Anselm  proves  the  existence  of  God,  one  might  prove  the  exist- 
ence of  a  perfect  island.  Thomas  Aquinas  more  than  a  hun- 
dred years  later  also  subjected  this  argument  to  careful  analysis. 


ANSELM  OF  CANTERBURY  171 

It  was,  however,  frequently  used  in  scholastic  philosophy, — for 
example,  by  William  of  Auxerre  and  Alexander  of  Hales. 

In  the  book  Cur  Deus  homo?  (written  1094  and  1098)  Anselm 
offers  his  theory  of  the  scheme  of  redemption,  which  he  conceives 
as  a  conflict  between  the  justice  and  mercy  of  God.  The  fall 
of  Adam  brought  with  it  the  sin  of  the  entire  human  race.  God 's 
justice  demands  satisfaction,  but  his  love  prevents  him  from 
inflicting  the  punishment  or  suffering  necessary  to  set  things 
right.  Christ,  the  God-man,  who  is  innocent  of  sin,  sacrifices 
himself  for  man,  thereby  satisfying  the  demands  of  justice. 

The  application  which  Roscelin  had  made  of  nominalism  em- 
phasized the  interest  in  the  question  of  universals  among  his 
contemporaries  and  successors.  Anselm  criticises 
the  nominalistic  view  from  the  standpoint  of 
realism,  which,  as  we  have  pointed  out,  is  admirably 
suited  to  his  orthodox  purpose :  universals  are  real ;  the  particu- 
lar objects  constituting  a  class  form  a  real  unity;  "  the  many 
men  in  the  species  are  one  man,"  he  says;  "  the  many  persons 
[in  the  Trinity],  each  single  one  of  whom  is  perfect  God,  are 
one  God."  The  question  arises,  What  is  the  relation  of  this 
universal  to  the  particular  objects;  what  part  do  individuals 
play  in  the  scheme?  William  of  Champeaux  (1070-1121)  holds 
that  the  genus  and  species  to  which  an  individual  belongs  are 
completely  present  in  every  individual,  and  individuals  differ 
from  one  another  merely  in  their  accidental  properties,  i.e.,  they 
do  not  differ  essentially  at  all.  Abelard  pointed  outito  him  that, 
in  that  case,  the  same  substance  would  have  different,  and  even 
contradictory,  properties;  it  would,  for  example,  be  in  different 
places  at  the  same  time.  If  human  nature  is  completely  in  Soc- 
rates, it  cannot  be  in  Plato;  if,  however,  we  say  it  is  also  in 
Plato,  then  Plato  must  be  Socrates,  and  Socrates  must  be  in 
Plato's  place  as  well  as  in  his  own.  William  afterward  modified 
his  theory ;  he  had  not  intended  to  deny  the  essential  difference 
of  individuals,  and  most  likely  did  not  see  the  difficulties  in 
which  the  realistic  interpretation  of  logical  categories  involved 
him. 

According  to  the  work  De  generibus  et  speciebus,  the  author  of 
which  is  unknown,  but  which  is  referred  to  the  early  part  of 
the  twelfth  century,  the  universal  inheres,  not  in  the  individual 


172  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

as  such,  but  in  all  the  individuals  of  the  same  species.  Thus, 
the  common  element  which  inheres  in  all  the  particulars  of  a 
class  is  matter;  that  which  differentiates  it  from  other  particu- 
lars of  the  same  class,  its  individuality,  is  the  form. 


25.   PETER  ABELARD  AND  THE   SCHOOLMEN  OP  THE  TWELFTH 

CENTURY 

The  most  interesting  figure  among  all  these  schoolmen  is  Peter 
Abelard  (Abcelardus  or  Abeillard),  who  was  born,  1079,  in  Pallet, 
and  died  in  Paris,  1142,  after  many  conflicts  with 
the  Church.  He  was  a  man  of  remarkable  talents 
and  the  most  brilliant  teacher  of  his  time.  He  employed  a  method 
which  consisted  in  giving,  after  every  important  thesis  dis- 
cussed, the  views  of  opposing  authorities  (dicta  pro  et  contra) 
and  leaving  the  solution  of  the  problem  to  the  reader  himself, 
with  suggestions  of  the  principles  for  deciding  the  question. 
His  pupil  Peter  the  Lombard  followed  this  method  in  a  text- 
book on  Theology  which  became  the  model  for  all  succeeding 
medieval  works  of  the  kind. 

Among  Abelard's  works  are:  Epistolce;  Introductio  ad  theologiam; 
Ethica;  Sic  et  non;  Dialogus  inter  philosophum,  Judceum  ct  Christianum; 
Historia  calamitatum  (autobiography).  Edition  of  works  by  Cousin, 
2  vols. ;  theological  writings  in  Migne,  vol.  CLXXVIII.  McCabe, 
Abelard;  Remusat,  Abelard,  2  vols.;  Hausrath,  Abelard;  Th.  Ziegler, 
Abelard  (Zeller-Festschrift,  1884). 

Abelard  seems  to  occupy  middle  ground  between  the  nomi- 
nalism of  Roscelin  and  the  original  form  of  William's  realism 
(both  had  been  his  teachers),  but  does  not  offer  a  definite  solu- 
tion of  the  problem.  He  opposes  the  view  that  universals  are 
real  ante  res  except  in  the  mind  of  God;  we  cannot  predicate 
a  thing  of  a  thing,  and  we  can  predicate  a  universal  of  many 
things,  hence  a  universal  cannot  be  a  thing.  Nor  is  the  uni- 
versal a  mere  word  as  such ;  it  is  a  word  only  in  so  far  as  it  is 
predicated  of  a  class  of  objects,  that  is,  in  relation  to  the  objects 
denoted;  universals  are,  therefore,  not  words  (voces]  but 
sermones.  Perhaps  he  meant  by  this  that  universal  ideas,  which 
connote  the  properties  common  to  a  class  of  objects,  are  concepts 
in  the  mind,  and  that  the  terms  or  words  used  to  express  such 


PETER  ABELARD  173 

concepts  are  sermones.  This  would  be  the  view  called  concep- 
tualism,  which  has  been  given  as  Abelard's  meaning;  but  he 
does  not  seem  to  have  worked  it  out.  He  was  chiefly  interested 
in  showing  that  universals  are  not  entities  apart  from  things, 
as  well  as  that  there  are  essential  differences  between  things. 
It  is  not  unlikely  that  Abelard  was  in  doubt  himself  as  to  the 
correct  view;  his  great  admiration  for  both  Plato  and  Aristotle 
perhaps  made  him  feel  that  both  were  right.  What  he  par- 
ticularly desired  to  emphasize  was  that  our  thinking  should  be 
of  things,  that  the  purpose  of  speech  is  to  express  thought,  but 
that  thoughts  must  conform  to  things. 

In  his  work  on  Theology,  which  was  condemned  at  the  Coun- 
cil of  Sens,  in  1140,  Abelard  emphasizes  the  need  of  examining 
our  faith  in  order  that  it  may  not  be  a  blind  faith,  and  to  this 
end  he  recommends  training  in  logic  and  the  use  of  logical 
methods  in  theology.  _^e^sjon__sjwuld_j^eceole_Jail^  we  ought 
to  see  the  reasonableness  of  it.  On  the  other  hand  he  evidently 
believes  that  a  strict  logical  proof  of  the  dogmas  cannot  be 
offered,  and  makes  their  acceptance  an  act  of  free  will,  for  which 
we  are  to  be  rewarded  in  the  future  life  by  a  knowledge  of  the 
grounds  of  faith. '  This  shows  how  firmly  Abelard  was  held  in 
the  grip  of  the  scholastic  method ;  in  spite  of  the  independence 
of  his  thought  and  his  respect  for  reason,  his  attitude  is  essen- 
tially scholastic:  reflect  upon  the  dogma  as  profoundly  as  you 
can,  do  not  accept  it  until  you  have  inquired  into  its  reasons, 
but  after  you  have  doubted  and  inquired,  and  it  still  does  not 
appeal  to  you,  make  up  your  mind  to  accept  it  nevertheless,  for 
accept  it  you  must. 

The  part  of  his  Theology  which  aroused  the  greatest  opposi- 
tion and  led  to  the  condemnation  of  the  book  was  his  doctrine 
of  the  Trinity.  In  the  Trinity,  he  said,  the  Father  is  the  One, 
or  Goodness;  the  Son  is  the  Logos,  or  the  mind  of  God  (rove), 
containing  the  ideas;  and  the  Holy  Ghost  is  the  world-soul. 
He  also  characterizes  the  three  persons  as  the  power,  wisdom, 
and  good  will  of  God. 

In  his  ethics  Abelard  emphasizes  the  importance  of  the  good 
will.  The  Tightness  and  wrongness  of  an  act  lie  not  in  the 
deed,  but  in  the  intention  of  the  agent ;  the  act  as  such  is  indif- 
ferent, as  are  also  natural  inclinations  to  evil,  which  are  due. 


174  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

to  original  sin.  "  God  considers  not  what  is  done,  but  in  what 
spirit  it  is  done;  and  the  merit  or  praise  of  the  agent  lies  not 
in  the  deed,  but  in  the  intention."  Sin  consists  in  our  consent 
to  evil  recognized  as  such  by  us, — in  willing  what  we  know  to 
be  wrong, — and  is,  therefore,  an  act  of  free  will.  Morality,  in 
other  words,  is  a  matter  of  conscience.  So  long  as  the  agent  acts 
in  accordance  with  his  conscience,  in  conformity  with  what  he 
thinks  is  right,  he  may  err,  but  he  does  not  sin.  His  act  is 
truly  virtuous,  however,  only  in  case  what  he  thinks  is  right 
is  right,  in  case  his  subjective  conviction  agrees  with  objective 
principles  of  right.  Abelard  has  in  mind  the  distinction  between 
subjectively  moral  and  objectively  moral  acts.  In  a  broader 
sense,  everything  is  sin  that  is  contrary  to  what  is  right,  but 
in  the  narrow  sense,  only  the  conscious  and  voluntary  pursuit  of 
evil  is  sin. 

But  why  is  it  sinful  to  consent  to  what  is  thought  to  be  wrong  ? 
Because  such  consent  implies  a  downright  contempt  of  God, 
a  disobedience  of  the  divine  will,  a  violation  of  his  commands, 
and  that  is  the  greatest  of  all  sins.  A  good  will  is  one  that  is 
prompted  by  the  love  of  God  and  acts  in  obedience  to  divine 
command.  Such  commands  themselves  Abelard  regards  as  arbi- 
trary deliverances  of  divine  freedom;  they  differ  for  different 
times,  but  obedience  to  them  is  moral  and  is  required.  Here, 
again,  we  see  how,  in  spite  of  occasional  symptoms  of  inde- 
pendent thinking,  the  spirit  of  scholasticism  will  out  at  last. 

The  school  of  Chartres,  of  which  Bernard  of  Chartres  (died  be- 
tween 1124  and  1130)  and  his  brother  Thierry  (+1150)  were  the  heads, 
rru  o  u  i  and  which  counted  among  its  followers  Bernard  of 
f  p?  °°  Tours,  William  of  Conches  (+1154),  Gilbert  of  Poitiers 
(+1154),  Walter  of  Mortagne  (+1174),  and  Adelard 
of  Bath,  studied  and  sought  to  develop  the  Platonic  doctrines,  so  far 
as  they  were  known  at  that  time,  sometimes  in  connection  with  Aris- 
totle's views.  Aristotle's  Analytics,  Topics,  and  Fallacies  first  became 
known  to  the  schoolmen  in  Latin  translations  (1128).  The  school  of 
Chartres  exhibited  a  keen  interest,  not  only  in  dialectical  studies,  but 
also  in  astronomy,  mathematics,  medicine,  physics,  physiological  and 
psychological  questions,  books  on  which  were  being  translated  from  the 
Arabic.  A  realism  similar  to  Plato's  was  accepted  by  those  who  dis- 
cussed the  logical  problems :  universals,  or  concepts  of  genera  and 
species  (according  to  Bernard  of  Tours,  also  notions  of  particular 
things),  exist  in  purity  in  the  divine  mind.  To  them  matter  in  some 
way  owes  its  form.  Bodies  are  said  to  subsist  in  them  as  water  exists 


MYSTICISM  AND  PANTHEISM  175 

in  the  bed  of  a  river ;  or  "  native  forms "  are  introduced  to  explain 
bodies, — forms  which  are  related  to  the  pure  ideas  in  the  divine  mind 
as  a  thing  is  to  its  pattern; — or  the  nature  of  the  relation  is  left  unde- 
termined. Material  objects  manifest  the  form  or  idea  obscurely.  The 
intellect  can  attend  to  the  forms  or  common  qualities  in  bodies  by  ab- 
straction. Cf.  Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  cit.,  §  25. 

We  have  called  attention  to  the  method  employed  by  Abelard  in  his 
teaching  and  writings,  that  of  stating  the  opinions  (sententice,  sentences] 
of  different  authorities  on  the  subjects  under  discussion.  „.,, 
The  method  was  not  a  new  one ;  it  had  been  followed  in  a  ~  e 
number  of  text-books  of  theology,  which  were  called  k 
Sentences  or  Summaries  of  Sentences  (Summce  sententiarum} ;  among 
others  in  Robert  Pulleyn's  (-(-1150)  Sententiarum  libri  octo  and  Hugo 
of  St.  Victor's  Summa  sententiarum.  (The  writers  of  such  books  were 
also  called  Summists.)  Peter  Lombard  (+1164),  making  good  use  of 
all  these  works,  published  a  book  Libri  quatro  sententiarum,  which 
formed  the  basis  of  theological  instruction  for  centuries,  and  won  for 
its  author  the  title  magister  sententiarum.  The  four  books  of  this  work 
discuss:  God  as  the  absolute  Good;  creatures;  incarnation,  redemption, 
and  the  virtues;  the  seven  sacraments.  Other  Summists  of  this  period 
are  Robert  of  Melun,  Hugo  of  Rouen  (+1164),  Peter  of  Poitiers 
(+1205),  and  Simon  of  Tournai.  Alain  of  Lille  (+1203,  Alanus  ab 
insulis)  presents  the  subjects  taken  up  in  the  Sentences  in  the  form  of 
a  dogmatic  system.  In  his  De  arte  fidei  catholicce  and  Eegulce  theo- 
logicce  he  employs  the  mathematical-deductive  method,  attempting  to 
base  theology  on  fundamental  principles.  In  spite  of  his  rationalistic 
ideal,  however,  Alain  frequently  betrays  skeptical  and  mystical  tend- 
encies. The  doctrines  of  the  Church  are  more  certain  than  all  our 
worldly  sciences,  but  not  absolutely  certain.  Faith,  too,  has  its  merit; 
if  they  were  absolutely  certain,  there  would  be  no  merit  in  believing 
them. 

The  Englishman  John  of  Salisbury  (c.  1115-1180),  to  whom  we  are 
indebted    for    information    concerning   many    schoolmen    of   his    age, 
criticises  the  entire  scholastic  movement  as  dealing  with    jojjn  o£ 
fruitless  controversies,  and  demands  the  reform  of  logic    gaijgburv 
in  his  Metalogicus.    He  is  in  favor  of  realistic  studies  in  ^ 

education,  and  of  the  absolute  independence  of  the  Church  from  the 
State,  in  his  book  Policraticus.  All  knowledge,  he  thinks,  ought  to  be 
practical;  whatever  does  not  help  us  either  in  acting  on  nature  or  in 
doing  our  duty,  is  useless.  Our  true  good  lies  in  a  pious  life;  we 
should  believe  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Church,  even  though  we  cannot 
prove  them. 

Works  edited  by  Giles,  5  vols.,  and  by  Migne,  vol.  CXCIX ;  Policrati- 
cus by  Webb,  2  vols.     Schaarschmidt,  Johannes  Saresberiensis. 


26.   MYSTICISM  AND  PANTHEISM 

The  philosophical-theological  movement  which  we  have  been 
describing  has  as  its  aim  the  rational  interpretation  of  the  Chris- 


176  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

tian  universe, — of  the  universe  as  the  orthodox  Churchman  con- 
ceives it.  The  presupposition  is  that  the  purpose,  nature,  and 

operation  of  God  can  be  made  intelligible  to  reason, 
Mysticism          JV 

that   a   system   can   be    constructed   on   the   basis 

of  the  Christian  articles  of  faith.  We  have  here  a  dogmatic 
rationalism  or  intellectualism,  regulated  by  the  official  church 
doctrine.  Scholasticism  as  a  completely  rationalized  church 
theology,  however,  never  gained  undisputed  possession  of  the 
Christian  world ;  alongside  of  it,  and  often  within  it,  we  discover 
an  anti-theological  current,  a  kind  of  reaction  against  the  over- 
rationalization  of  the  faith,  a  yearning  for  a  more  practical 
expression  of  the  religious  life.  For  this  movement  religion  is 
not  merely  philosophy  of  religion ;  it  finds  its  satisfaction  not  ID 
theorizing  about  the  faith,  but  in  experiencing  it ;  its  chief  desire 
is  not  to  prove  the  existence  of  God  and  to  define  him,  but  tc 
enter  into  other  than  intellectual  relations  with  him.  This  mys- 
tical line  of  thought  represents  the  conservative  Augustiniar 
element  in  Christianity ;  and  it  is  a  fact  that  the  leaders  of  the 
first  school  of  Mystics  were  monks  in  the  Augustinian  cloister  of 
St.  Victor  at  Paris. 

According  to  the  mystics,  God  is  not  reached  by  dialectics,  or 
logic,  but  in  mystical  contemplation;  and  it  is  the  function  of 
theology  to  tell  us  how  such  a  state  may  be  realized.  Laying 
stress,  as  they  do,  upon  the  inner  faith  of  man,  upon  the  experi- 
ences of  the  soul,  they  naturally  become  interested  in  a  more 
empirical  study  of  the  soul  than  had  been  customary.  Mysticism 
is  practical  theology,  theology  teaching  the  art  of  mystical  con- 
templation. But  the  mystics  have  their  rational  theology  as  well ; 
in  it,  however,  the  superrationality  of  the  faith  is  emphasized. 
As  the  school  develops,  mystical  contemplation  is  accentuated 
and  even  exaggerated:  for  Richard  of  St.  Victor  it  is  far  supe- 
rior to  knowledge;  according  to  Walter,  logic  is  the  source  of 
all  heresies:  faith  not  only  transcends  knowledge,  but  contra- 
dicts it.  Walter  wrote  a  book  Against  the  Four  Labyrinths  of 
France  (In  quaiiuor  labyrinthos  Francice),  meaning  Gilbert, 
Abelard,  Peter  the  Lombard,  and  Peter  of  Poitiers,  all  of  whom 
he  regarded  as  heretics. 

The  chief  representatives  of  orthodox  or  church  mysticism  are 
Bernard  of  Clairvaux  (1091-1153),  Hugo  of  St.  Victor  (1096-1141), 


MYSTICISM  AND  PANTHEISM  177 

Richard  of  St.  Victor  (+1173),  and  Walter  of  St.  Victor.  The 
mysticism  of  the  twelfth  century  was  continued  by  Thomas  Gallus 
(1216)  and  Bonaventura  (1221-1274).  Meister  Eckhart  (1260-1327), 
Johannes  Tauler  (1300-1361),  and  Johannes  Ruysbroek  (1293-1381) 
are  pantheistic  mystics,  whose  teachings  are  condemned  by  the  Catho- 
lic Church  as  heretical. 

Works  in  Migne's  collection.  Translation  of  Bernard's  works,  4 
vols.,  by  Bales. 

Vaughan,  Hours  with  the  Mystics,  2  vols.;  Gregory,  Introduction  to 
Christian  Mysticism;  R.  B.  Jones,  Studies  in  Mystical  Religion;  Svan- 
son,  Christian  Mystics;  von.  Hugel,  The  Mystical  Elements  of  Re- 
ligion, 2  vols. ;  Delacroix,  Etudes  de  I'histoire  et  de  psychologic  du 
mysticisme;  the  works  of  Gorres,  Helfferich,  Noack,  Preger,  and 
Schmidt. 

The  highest  goal  for  the  mystic  is  "  the  mysterious  ascension 
of  the  soul  to  heaven,  the  sweet  home-coming  from  the  land  of 
bodies  to  the  region  of  spirits,  the  surrender  of  the  self  in  and 
to  God."  The  road  to  this  goal  leads  beyond  sense-perception 
and  even  conceptual  thought  to  contemplation,  in  which  the  ideal 
object  appears  to  the  soul  in  its  immediacy.  There  are  three 
stages  of  knowledge :  cogitatio,  meditatio,  and  contemplation  the 
very  highest  stage  is  superrational  and  prasterrational,  bearing 
the  rnind  to  the  profoundest  mysteries  of  religion.  In  its  most 
exalted  form  (alienatio  mentis),  the  individual  consciousness 
comes  to  rest  in  contemplation.  All  that  man  can  do  is  to  pre- 
pare himself  for  this  mystical  "  plunge  into  the  ocean  of  infi- 
nite truth, ' '  and  then  to  wait  for  it :  it  is  an  extraordinary  favor 
of  God. 

The  ideal  of  the  orthodox  thinkers  of  the  twelfth  century  was 
to  rationalize  the  faith,  and  to  this  end  they  had  recourse  to 
logic  and  metaphysics.  Their  undertaking  rested  . 

on  the  desire  to  understand  the  things  which  the 
Church  taught  and  they  believed.  The  traditional  theology  based 
itself  upon  realistic  preconceptions,  which  seemed  to  bring  the 
results  of  philosophical  thought  into  harmony  with  the  doctrines 
of  the  Church.  But  even  when  men  reason  from  the  same  prem- 
ises, different  conclusions  often  follow;  their  results  do  not 
always  agree.  This  is  what  happened  constantly  iii  the  dogma- 
making  period  of  Christianity;  and  it  happened  every  now  and 
then  during  the  ages  following.  John  Scotus,  Roscelin,  and 
Abelard  did  not  succeed  in  making  their  thoughts  square  ex- 


178  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

actly  with  the  official  requirements.  Among  the  heresies  whic 
attracted  thinkers,  pantheism  had  never  quite  lost  its  power: 
found  expression  in  Sabellianism,  in  the  pseudo-Dionysius,  an 
in  Scotus  Erigena;  and  the  Mystics  were  not  far  from  it.  T< 
ward  the  close  of  the  twelfth  century,  it  appeared  again  and  mad 
some  progress.  Its  chief  representatives  were:  the  Abbe 
Joachim  of  Floris  (+1202),  Amalric  or  Amaury  of  Benne 
(+1206),  who  taught  theology  at  Paris,  and  David  of  Dinar 
(died  circa  1200),  of  whose  life  we  know  very  little.  These  par 
theists  reached  their  conclusions  quite  simply  by  deducing  wha 
they  regarded  as  the  logical  consequences  of  Platonic  realisn 
If  universals  are  real,  then  the  highest  universal,  God,  must  b 
the  most  real  being  and  everything  else  an  expression  of  th 
divine  essence  (just  as  the  highest  genus  in  logic  comprehends  al 
possible  species  and  individuals).  Amalric  seems  to  have  taughl 
with  John  Scotus,  that  the  world  of  changing  and  divisible  phe 
nomena,  which  has  come  from  God,  will  ultimately  return  t 
God  and  abide  in  him  as  one  unchangeable  individual. 

Such  pantheistic  teachings  found  favor  with  many,  and  a  sec 
of  Amalricians  was  formed  that  spread  over  Switzerland  ani 
Alsace.  The  Church  condemned  the  doctrines,  exhumed  the  bod; 
of  Amalric,  who  had  been  forced  to  recant  before  his  death,  an< 
eradicated  the  sect.  In  1225  it  condemned  Scotus  Erigena  as  , 
heretic.  In  1210  a  provincial  council  at  Paris  prohibited  th 
Physics  of  Aristotle,  which  had  found  its  way  at  last  into  th 
Western  world  in  a  Latin  translation  from  the  Arabic.  All  thi 
is  evidence  of  the  growth  of  a  spirit  of  independence.  The  hu 
man  mind  was  again  getting  ready  to  try  its  wings. 

27.   SYMPTOMS  OF  UNREST 

We  find,  then,  at  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century,  besides  thi 
predominant  scholastic  philosophy,  a  number  of  opposing  tenden 
cies.      Some    of   the   more   conservative    orthodox 
cnurcnmen  are  opposed  to  the  traditional  systen 
as  laying  too  much  stress  on  dialectics:  for  then 
it  is  not  strict  enough.     Some  thinkers,  more  independent  thai 
the  schoolmen,  reach  conclusions  antagonistic  to  the  official  Chris 
tian  scheme  of  thought ;  for  them  it  is  too  strict.    Others  assume 


SYMPTOMS  OF  UNREST 


179 


a  skeptical  attitude  with  respect  to  all  attempts  to  construct  a 
rational  theology,  either  because  they  distrust  reason  as  an  ally 
of  an  inner  living  faith  or  because  the  prevailing  philosophical 
discussions  do  not  seem  to  them  to  have  any  bearing  on  the  real 
practical  problems  of  the  Church.  In  many  quarters  the  desire 
is  felt  for  further  knowledge  concerning  the  relation  of  general 
ideas  or  universals  to  the  world  of  particular  objects;  this  de- 
sire develops  into  an  interest  in  natural  science,  which  is  fed 
by  Latin  translations  of  Arabian  scientific  books. 

There  were  symptoms  of  unrest;  the  problems  and  difficulties 
were  multiplying,  and  many  were  beginning  to  see  how  hard  it 
was  to  demonstrate  not  only  the  positive  dogmas  of 
the  Church,  but  the  general  propositions  of  theol- 
ogy  as  well.  In  spite  of  their  bold  syllogistic  con- 
structions, schoolmen  often  confessed  that  the  conclusions,  though 
more  certain  than  any  worldly  knowledge  we  might  possess,  still 
fell  short  of  absolute  rational  certainty.  And  yet 


tal  conviction  remained  that  the  universe  was  a  rational  universe, 
that  God  acted  intelligently  and  for  the  best,  that  there  was  truth 
if  only  one  could  make  it  out.  But  the  goal  of  the  search  was 
fixed  ;  it  was  sacrilegious  and  dangerous  to  tamper  with  the  dog- 
mas; there  stood  the  powerful  organization  of  the  Church  with 
its  awful  spiritual  and  temporal  weapons,  ready  to  discipline 
those  who  wandered  too  far  afield.  The  intellectual  activities 
of  Christendom,  too,  were  gradually  made  corporate  and  organic  ; 
out  of  the  cathedral  and  monastery  schools  grew  the  universities, 
or  corporations  of  scholars  engaged  in  the  study  of  theology  and 
philosophy,  medicine  and  law;  and  certain  monastic  orders 
formed  compact  philosophical  schools,  which,  like  the  old  Greek 
schools,  continued  for  centuries  to  teach  their  favorite  doctrines. 
Paris,  the  great  international  university,  which  owed  its  exist- 
ence to  the  union  of  the  theological  school  of  Notre  Dame  and 
the  school  of  logic  at  St.  Genevieve,  received  its  charter  inJl:20S. 
The  Dominican  and  Franciscan  orders  became  the  great  teaching 
orders  of  the  thirteenth  century,  nearly  all  the  distinguished 
teachers  and  writers  of  that  age  belonging  to  the  one  or  the  other. 
These  agencies,  the  Church,  the  universities,  and  the  monastic 
orders,  cooperated  in  the  work  of  securing  the  traditional  doc- 
trines of  Christianity.  The  business  of  the  individual  thinker  was 


180  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

to  make  reason  and  faith  agree:  this  was  not  philosophy,  but  it 
was  the  task  made  necessary  by  the  preconceptions  of  the  times, 
and  it  was  the  path  of  least  resistance. 

The  age  was  not  ready  to  give  up  the  dogmas  nor  was  it  com- 
petent to  construct  a  system  of  thought  independently  of  reli- 
gious and  philosophical  tradition ;  an  adequate  knowledge  of  the 
facts  of  experience  was  lacking.  Empirical  science  was  at  a  low 
ebb,  modern  scientific  methods  were  unknown;  the  age  was  a 
book-age,  and  the  books  were  wanting  from  which  such  a  knowl- 
edge might  be  obtained.  Paulsen  makes  the  statement  that  if 
our  modern  scientific  text-books  had  suddenly  been  showered  upon 
the  Greeks,  they  would  not  have  known  what  to  do  with  them. 
The  remark  is  applicable  to  the  Middle  Ages:  they,  too,  had  to 
work  out  their  own  salvation. 

Cf .  histories  of  universities  mentioned  p.  137 ;  Turner,  op.  cit.,  p.  321 ; 
Graves,  Medieval  Education,  chaps,  viii,  ix,  and  bibliography  given 
there. 

It  was  during  the  period  we  have  been  describing  that  a  new 
world  began  to  open  up  to  Western  Christendom,  and  that  a  new 
impetus  was  given  to  the  study  of  scholastic  phi- 
°  l°s°Pny-  Greek  works  on  mathematics,  astronomy, 
and  medicine;  the  writings  of  Aristotle  and  some 
of  his  Greek  commentators  (Alexander  of  Aphrodisias,  Themis- 
tius)  ;  and  the  most  celebrated  Arabian  and  Jewish  philosophers 
and  commentators  of  Aristotle  were  becoming  known  in  Latin 
translations  from  the  Arabian  texts.*  These  books  were  eagerly 
studied  and  at  first  interpreted,  after  the  Arabic  fashion,  in  the 
spirit  of  Neoplatonism. 

The  new  Aristotelian  literature  was  viewed  with  suspicion  by 
the  Church,  partly,  no  doubt,  on  account  of  the  odor  of  pan- 
theism with  which  its  Arabian  expounders  had  surrounded  it. 
At  any  rate,  we  find  that  the  study  of  Aristotle's  Physics  and 
Metaphysics  is  expressly  prohibited  by  the  statutes  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Paris  in  1215,  and  that  Pope  Gregory  IX  again  for- 
bids the  use  of  the  Physics  in  1231, — until  the  work  can  be  ex- 

*  Around  the  year  1150  John  Avendeath  and  Dominic  Gundisalvi  trans- 
lated the  chief  works  of  Aristotle  and  Jewish  and  Arabic  books  from  the 
Arabian  into  Latin.  Nearly  all  the  works  of  Aristotle,  in  such  translations, 
became  known  during  the  years  1210  and  1225. 


ARABIAN  PHILOSOPHY  181 

amined  and  expurgated.  These  prescriptions,  however,  do  not 
seem  to  have  had  more  than  a  passing  effect ;  the  books  were  read, 
and  the  foremost  scholars  of  the  period  began  to  write  commen- 
taries on  them.  Translations  from  the  original  Greek  versions 
of  the  chief  works  of  the  great  Peripatetic  were  made  later  on 
in  the  century,  and  the  genuine  Aristotle  came  in  time  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  Neoplatonic  counterfeit  of  the  Arabians. 

Robert  Greathead,  Bishop  of  Lincoln  (+1253),  had  translations 
made,  especially  of  the  Nicomachean  Ethics  (1250).  William  of  Moer- 
becke  (-f-1281)  translated  the  works  (including  Politics).  Henry  of 
Brabant  translated  certain  works  (about  1271).  In  1254  the  Physics 
and  Metaphysics  became  parts  of  the  curriculum  of  the  University  of 
Paris,  the  same  university  that  had  condemned  the  writings  forty  years 
before.  Aristotle  came  to  be  regarded  as  "  the  rule  of  truth,  as  it  were, 
in  which  nature  demonstrated  the  highest  perfection  of  the  human 
mind,"  and  as  "  the  precursor  of  Christ  in  natural  things  as  John  the 
Baptist  had  been  in  matters  of  grace."  Great  encyclopedias  appeared, 
based  on  the  new  philosophy,  composed  by  Gundisalvi  of  Segovia 
(twelfth  century),  William  of  Auvergne  (+1249),  Robert  Kilwardby 
(+1278),  and  the  greatest  of  all,  Vincent  of  Beauvais  (+1264). 


CULMINATION  OF  SCHOLASTICISM 

28.   ARABIAN  PHILOSOPHY 

Western  Europe  first  became  acquainted  with  the  Aristotelian 
writings  through  translations  from  the  Arabian  texts,  and 
through  the  systems  and  commentaries  of  Arabian 

CrPPPK 

philosophers  who  interpreted  Aristotle  in  the  spirit  gources 
of  Neoplatonism.  The  followers  of  Mohammed,  in 
their  zeal  to  convert  all  unbelievers  to  the  teachings  of  Islam, 
had  set  out  to  conquer  the  world  (632)  ;  by  the  year  711  Syria, 
Egypt,  Persia,  Africa,  and  Spain  were  in  their  hands.  In  Syria 
the  scholars  of  the  new  militant  religion  became  acquainted  with 
the  Aristotelian  philosophy,  which,  tinctured  with  Neoplatonism, 
had  for  centuries  formed  the  chief  object  of  study  in  the  Eastern 
Empire,  among  Christian  theologians  and  heretical  philosophers 
alike,  and  had  been  carried  to  Syria  by  the  exiled  Nestorian  sect. 
Arabic  translations  were  made,  first  from  the  Syrian,  later  from 
the  Greek  texts,  not  only  of  Aristotle's  works,  but  of  the  works 
of  commentators  like  Alexander  of  Aphrodisias,  Themistius, 


182  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

Porphyry,  and  Ammonius,  as  well  as  of  Plato's  Republic, 
Timceus,  and  Laws  (876).  The  Arabians  also  studied  transla- 
tions of  Greek  works  on  mathematics,  astronomy,  medicine,  and 
other  natural  sciences,  and  made  valuable  contributions  to  some 
of  these  fields.  Aristotle  came  to  the  Arabian  scholars  in  the 
Neoplatonic  dress  in  which  his  later  commentators  had  clothed 
him;  it  was  owing  to  this  fact,  as  well  as  to  the  existence  of 
pseudo- Aristotelian  books  of  Neoplatonic  origin  (which  masquer- 
aded under  his  name),  that  little  difficulty  was  found  in  inter- 
preting the  Peripatetic  philosophy  in  terms  of  the  emanation- 
theory. 

DeBoer,  History  of  Philosophy  in  Islam,  transl.  by  E.  Jones;  Shah- 
rastani,  History  of  Eeligious  and  Philosophical  Sects;  Goldziher,  Islam 
and  Jewish  Philosophy  in  Allgemeine  Geschichte  der  Philosophic,  men- 
tioned p.  4;  M.  Eisler,  Judische  Philosophie  des  Mittelalters,  3  vols.; 
M.  Joel,  Beitrdge  zur  Geschichte  der  Philosophic,  2  vols.;  Neumark, 
Geschichte  der  judischen  Philosophie;  works  by  Munk  and  Dieterici. 
Bibliographies  in  Goldziher  and  Ueberweg-Heinze,  Part  II,  §§  28,  29 
(which  contain  good  accounts  of  Arabian  and  Jewish  philosophy). 

With  the  help  of  this  literature  the  scholars  of  Islam  suc- 
ceeded in  placing  their  religion  on  a  philosophical  basis  and 
creating  a  scholastic  system  not  unlike,  in  its  aim, 

School  to  that  of  the  West    With  them  as  with  the  Chris' 

tians,  the  pivotal  problem  was  the  relation  of  divine 

revelation  to  human  knowledge  and  conduct ;  the  purpose  of  their 
science  was  to  bring  the  teachings  of  the  Koran  into  harmony 
with  the  deliverances  of  reason,  or  to  rationalize  the  faith. 

The  questions  which,  at  an  early  date,  led  to  controversy  among 
them  were  the  relation  between  divine  predestination  and  human 
freedom,  and  the  relation  of  the  unity  of  God  to  his  attributes. 
The  orthodox  party  accepted  the  teachings  of  the  Koran  with- 
out any  attempt  to  justify  them:  there  is  one  omnipotent,  om- 
niscient God,  who  has  predetermined  everything.  Objections 
were  urged  against  the  traditional  orthodox  views  by  dissenters, 
or  free-thinkers  (called  Mutazilites),  who  made  reason  the  test 
of  truth.  These  thinkers  came  to  feel  the  need  of  a  philosophy, 
and  so  drew  upon  various  Greek  theories  in  support  of  their 
views,  without,  however,  at  once  constructing  a  system  of  their 
own.  In  the  tenth  century  there  arose  within  the  rationalistic 


ARABIAN  PHILOSOPHY  183 

school  a  reaction  against  philosophy  and  in  favor  of  orthodoxy ; 
both  the  Aristotelian  conception,  with  its  passive  contemplative 
God  and  its  eternal  universe,  and  the  Neoplatonic  emanation- 
theory  were  rejected  as  out  of  harmony  with  the  Islam  notion 
of  a  personal  Creator  of  the  world.  The  Asharites,  as  these 
reactionaries  were  called  (after  their  leader  Ashari,  873-935), 
showed  a  great  preference  for  atomism,  with  the  essential  prin- 
ciples of  that  theory  left  out.  Atoms  were  conceived  as  con- 
tinuous creations  of  God  while  the  notions  of  causation  and  the 
uniformity  of  nature  were  discarded  in  order  to  save  the  abso- 
lute, arbitrary  power  of  God  and  the  possibility  of  miraculous 
interference. 

The  part  of  the  rationalistic  school  which  remained  faithful 
to  philosophy  developed  a  number  of  systems,  in  which  Aris- 
totelian and  Neoplatonic,  sometimes  Neopythagorean,  elements 
are  combined  in  varying  proportions.  Some  of  these  emphasize 
the  Neoplatonic  aspects,  bringing  the  practical,  ethical,  and  reli- 
gious teachings  to  the  front;  others  accentuate  the  Aristotelian 
thoughts,  insisting  on  the  study  of  logic  as  a  preparation,  and 
construct  their  metaphysics  on  what  seems  to  them  a  natural- 
scientific  basis. 

A.  typical  example  of  Arabian  Neoplatonism  is  the  Encyclo- 
pedia of  Sciences,  a  series  of  fifty-one  treatises,  which  was 
produced  in  the  tenth  century  by  members  of  a  religious- 
philosophical  order  called  the  Brothers  of  Sincerity,  and  which 
exercised  great  influence  throughout  the  Mohammedan  world. 
This  popular  society,  which  reminds  us  of  the  old  Pythagorean 
order  in  Italy,  had  as  its  ideal  the  perfection  of  the  human  soul 
in  the  likeness  of  God  by  means  of  philosophical  study.  Its 
ethical-religious  teaching  was  based  on  the  Neoplatonic 
emanation-theory,  according  to  which  all  things  flow  from,  and 
return  to,  the  absolute  unity  of  God.  Man,  the  copy  of  the 
universe,  the  microcosm,  must  free  himself  from  the  bondage  of 
matter  and  return,*purified,  to  the  source  from  which  he  sprang. 
The  Encyclopedia  culminates  in  occultism;  the  final  part  is 
given  over  to  serious  discussions  of  astrology,  magic,  alchemy, 
and  eschatology. 

In  the  book  on  the  Refinement  of  Morals,  Ibn  Miskaweihi 
(+ 1030)  presents  an  ethical  system  which  is  a  curious  mixture 


184  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

of  Platonic,  Aristotelian,  and  Neoplatonic  ideas.  In  Sufism  the 
mystical  side  of  Neoplatonism  is  emphasized:  the  phenomena] 
world  is  an  illusion  and  matter  the  lowest  emanation  of  Deity 
by  asceticism  and  ecstasy  the  soul  penetrates  the  veil  of  illusion 
and  is  merged  in  God.  Buddhistic  influences  are  observable  in 
that  form  of  Sufism  which  teaches  the  absolute  absorption  oi 
the  individual  soul  in  nothingness. 

The  other  branch  of  the  Arabian  school,  the  chief  representa- 
tives of  which  in  the  Orient  are  Alkindi  (+870),  Alfarabi 
.  (+950),  and  Avicenna  (+1037),  insist  on  the  im- 

portance of  logic  as  an  introduction  to  the  stud} 
of  philosophy,  and  emphasize  the  necessity  of  grounding  meta- 
physics on  a  study  of  nature.  But  their  conception  of  natural 
science  is  extremely  crude,  being  shot  through  with  fantastic 
notions,  religious  superstitions,  and  occult  theories  of  all  kinds 
The  interpretation  of  dreams,  theurgy,  alchemy,  astrology,  and 
natural  magic  are  regarded  by  these  men  of  science  as  legitimate 
parts  of  natural  science;  they  believe  in  astral  spirits,  which 
they  identify  with  the  angels  of  the  Koran  and  the  Bible,  and 
nearly  all  of  them  are  mystics.  The  only  subjects  not  infected 
with  superstition  are  logic  and  mathematics.  That  these  think- 
ers, for  the  most  part,  failed  to  grasp  the  real  teachings  of  Aris- 
totle and  interpreted  them  as  Neoplatonic,  is  not  remarkable; 
it  was  no  easy  task  to  discover  the  genuine  Aristotle  under  the 
mass  of  Neoplatonic  commentaries  and  interpretations  under 
which  he  had  lain  buried  for  centuries. 

In  their  logical  studies,  the  Arabian  philosophers  generally 
exhibit  good  judgment  and  dialectical  skill.  They  too  are  inter- 
ested in  the  question  which  formed  so  important  a  part  oi 
Christian  scholasticism,  the  question  of  universals.  According 
to  Alfarabi,  universals  have  no  existence  apart  from  particulars, 
they  are  in  things;  but  even  individual  forms  have  a  place  in 
the  mind.  Avicenna,  likewise,  holds  that  they  do  not  exist  as 
separate  entities  prior  to  things,  except  in  the  mind  of  God; 
in  our  own  minds  they  exist  after  things,  as  abstractions  from 
particulars ;  and  they  exist  also  in  things,  but  not  unmixed  with 
their  accidents. 

In  their  metaphysics,  Alfarabi  and  Avicenna  make  concessions 
to  the  demands  of  their  religion.  They  try  to  weaken  the  Aris- 


ARABIAN  PHILOSOPHY 


185 


totelian  notion  of  an  eternal  universe  by  making  a  distinction 
between  necessary  and  potential  existence.  The  eternal  origi- 
nal being,  which  with  Aristotle  they  conceive  as  intelligence  (the 
primary  and  only  direct  product  of  God),  is  necessary  and  un- 
caused; everything  else  depends  for  its  existence  on  this  cause 
and  is  conditioned,  —  that  is,  is  potential  in  God.  The  evolution 
of  a  world  from  its  ground  is  a  process  of  emanation.  For 
Alfarabi,  matter  is  a  phase  of  this  process  ;  for  Avicenna,  mat- 
ter is  eternal  and  uncreated.  But  according  to  both,  creation 
means  the  actualization  or  realization  of  the  potential  in  matter  ; 
form  is  somehow  given  to  matter  by  God;  God  seems  to  place 
forms,  as  potencies,  in  matter  and  then  to  realize  them,  or  bring 
them  out,  by  means  of  his  active  intellect.  This  is,  according 
to  Alfarabi,  a  process  in  time;  with  Avicenna,  the  emanation 
of  the  lower  from  the  higher  is  an  eternal  process,  on  the  ground 
that  the  effect  must  be  simultaneous  with  the  cause,  which  is 
eternal;  hence,  the  universe  is  eternal. 

One  of  the  numerous  emanations  from  God  is  active  or  cre- 
ative thought,  the  spirit  of  the  lunar  sphere,  which  gives  every- 
thing the  form  it  has  been  prepared  to  receive.  And  it  is 
through  this  universal  active  intellect  that  the  potential  intel- 
lect is  realized,  or  knowledge  brought  out  in  man.  According 
to  Alfarabi,  the  human  intellect,  thus  actualized,  becomes  a 
simple  immortal  substance. 

The  goal  of  philosophy  is  to  know  God  and  to  be  like  God, 
so  far  as  this  is  possible.  It  can  be  reached,  according  to 
Avicenna,  by  instruction  as  well  as  by  divine  illumination; 
Alfarabi,  however,  regards  a  mystical  union  of  the  soul  with 
God  as  "an  old  wives'  tale." 

Arabian  philosophy  comes  to  an  end  in  the  Orient  at  the 
turning  point  of  the  eleventh  century.  Algazel  (+1111)  at- 
tacks the  teachings  of  the  philosophers  in  the 
interests  of  the  popular  religion,  in  his  book, 
Destruction  of  the  Philosophers,  and  denies  n 
the  competence  of  philosophy  to  reach  truth.  He 
misses  in  the  systems  the  doctrines  especially  emphasized  by 
Islam  orthodoxy:  the  theory  of  creation,  the  doctrine  of  per- 
sonal immortality,  and  the  belief  in  the  absolute  prescience  and 
providence  of  God,  —  the  view  that  God  knows  and  foresees  all 


186  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

the  minute  occurrences  of  life  and  can  interfere  with  them  at 
any  time.  The  appearance  of  Algazel's  work  not  only  silenced 
the  philosophers,  but  led  to  the  burning  of  their  books  by  the 
public  authorities. 

Arabian  philosophy,  however,  continued  its  existence  and 
flourished  in  the  Moorish  caliphate  of  Spain,  particularly  at 
Cordova,  the  seat  of  a  celebrated  school  at  which 
School  Mohammedans,  Jews,  and  Christians  studied  with- 

out interference.  The  most  important  among  the 
Arabian  thinkers  in  the  West  are:  Avempace  (+1138), 
Abubacer  (+1185),  and  Averroes  (Ibn  Roshd,  1126-1198). 
These  men  were  physicians  as  well  as  philosophers.  In  the 
greatest  of  them,  Averroes,  whose  ideas  influenced  Christian 
scholars,  Arabian  thought  reaches  its  culmination. 

Avempace  denied  individual  immortality,  regarding  as  im- 
mortal only  the  universal  intellect  which  manifests  itself  in 
particular  human  minds.  He  also  opposed  mysticism;  the  ideal 
is,  indeed,  to  rise  beyond  the  lower  stages  of  soul-life  to  com- 
plete self-consciousness,  in  which  thought  becomes  identical  with 
its  object,  but  this  goal  is  reached  not  by  ecstasy,  but  through 
a  gradual  and  natural  development  of  our  mental  functions. 
With  this  Abubacer  largely  agrees  in  his  philosophical  romance, 
in  which  he  describes  the  gradual  evolution  of  the  natural  ca' 
pacities  of  a  human  being,  living  alone  on  a  desert  island,  and 
his  final  union  with  God  by  means  of  asceticism  and  ecstasy. 

Averroes  had  a  high  opinion  of  Aristotle,  regarding  his 
intellect  as  the  perfection  of  the  human  mind.  His  chief  ambi- 
tion was  to  reproduce  the  true  Aristotle,  an  ambition,  however, 
which  he  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  realized.  The  task  was 
impossible  for  him, — partly  owing  to  the  Neoplatonic  precon- 
ceptions with  which  he  approached  the  interpretation  of  the 
great  Greek's  teachings,  partly  because  of  the  desire,  charac- 
teristic of  nearly  every  medieval  philosopher,  to  accommodate 
his  theories  to  the  demands  of  his  religion.  At  any  rate,  Aver- 
roes accepts  the  fundamental  dogmas  of  the  corrupted  Aris- 
totelianism  of  Islam:  the  emanation-theory  and  the  doctrine  of 
the  universal  intellect. 

Forms,  he  teaches,  are  implicit  in  matter;  not  superadded, 
as  Alfarabi  and  Avicenna  had  held,  but  unfolded,  or  evolved, 


ARABIAN  PHILOSOPHY  187 

or  realized,  by  the  action  of  higher  forms,  of  which  the  highest 
is  the  divine  intellect.  Creation,  in  the  ordinary  sense,  is  there- 
fore rejected.  There  is  ^pne^  universal  active  mind,  which  influ- 
ences particular  individuals  and  brings  them  to  knowledge. 
This  is  explained  by  Averroes  in  the  following  manner:  Indi- 
vidual souls  are  naturally  predisposed  to  such  influence;  by  the 
action  of  the  universal  active  mind  the  predisposed  soul  becomes 
a  potential  mind  and  so  has  implicit  intelligence.  The  union 
of  the  universal  mind  with  a  soul  capable  of  receiving  it,  yields 
an  individualized  soul:  just  as  the  sunlight  is  individualized  or 
particularized  by  striking  a  body  capable  of  receiving  light, 
so  a  soul,  capable  of  receiving  intelligence,  is  individualized 
by  the  entrance  into  it  of  the  universal  spirit.  By  further  action 
of  the  universal  mind  on  this  individualized  soul,  the  knowledge 
implicit  in  the  latter  is  made  explicit  or  realized ;  it  rises  to  the 
highest  self-consciousness,  and  in  this  form  becomes  one  with 
the  universal  spirit  or  absorbed  in  it  (mysticism) ;  it  becomes 
a  phase  or  element  in  the  mind  which  is  common  to  all  human 
beings.  In  this  sense,  and  in  this  sense  only,  is  the  individual 
soul  immortal,  not  in  the  sense  of  personal  immortality;  the 
universal  spirit  alone  is  immortal.  The  universal  mind  itself 
Averroes  conceives  as  one  of  the  many  emanations  of  God ;  it  is 
an  emanation  of  the  spirit  or  mover  of  the  sublunar  sphere. 

With  all  of  the  Arabian  philosophers  of  his  school,  Averroes 
holds  that  the  common  man  cannot  grasp  the  whole  truth, 
that  in  religion  it  is  given  to  him  in  symbols  which  the 
philosopher  interprets  allegorically,  but  which  the  common  man 
takes  literally.  Hence,  a  thing  may  be  true  in  philosophy  that 
is  not  true  in  theology,  and  vice  versa.  Thus,  Averroes  affirms 
that  he  necessarily  infers  the  unity  of  intelligence  by  reason, 
but  firmly  holds  to  the  opposite  view  by  faith. — Averroes  was 
accused  in  his  old  age  of  teaching  doctrines  harmful  to  Mo- 
hammedanism and  banished  from  the  court  of  the  Calif  of 
Cordova,  whose  physician  he  was. 

It  is  not  hard  to  understand  why  the  Christian  Church  re- 
ceived with  distrust  the  philosophical  gifts  of  the  Arabians. 
She  had  pantheistic  heresies  of  her  own  to  contend  with,  and 
had  no  desire  to  open  the  doors  to  the  heresies  of  the 
infidels. 


188  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

The  different  tendencies  of  Arabian  thought  which  have  been  de- 
scribed above,  greatly  influenced,  and  are  reflected  in,  the  Jewish 
j  •  i  philosophy  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Avicebron  (Solomon 

Phil  sonhv  ^n  Gebirol),  who  lived  in  Spain  during  the  eleventh 
century,  offered  a  compendium  of  Neoplatonism  in  his 
book  called  Fons  vita,  which  became  widely  known  among  the  school- 
men of  Europe.  The  greatest  Jewish  philosopher  of  the  period  was 
Moses  Maimonides  of  Cordova  (Mose  ben  Maimun,  1135-1204),  a  fol- 
lower of  Aristotelianism  and  the  author  of  Guide  for  the  Errant 
(Moreh  Nebuchim).  He  accepts  the  authority  of  Aristotle  for  the 
sublunar  sphere,  but  turns  to  Jewish  revelation  for  knowledge  of  the 
divine,  upholding  the  doctrine  of  creation  out  of  nothing  and  the 
notion  of  an  all-wise  Providence  in  human  affairs.  He  also  teaches 
the  freedom  of  the  will  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul  (that  is,  of  the 
acquired  active  intellect  : 


29.   PREDOMINANCE  OP  ARISTOTLE 

Although    the    study    of    the    Aristotelian    philosophy    gave 

scholasticism  a  new  lease  on  life,  it  did  not  at  once  produce  any 

great  change  in  the  philosophical  conceptions  of 

and°Stotle  the  times*  Indeed>  {i  was  because  Aristotle  could 
be  used  to  strengthen  the  prevailing  scholastic 
system  that  he  was  so  readily  accepted.  The  chief  aim  of  the 
schoolman  had  always  been  to  harmonize  religion  and  philoso- 
phy ;  here  now  was  a  complete  system  of  thought,  the  most 
developed  product  of  Greek  wisdom,  ready  at  hand  to  form 
one  of  the  partners  of  the  union.  It  embraced  all  the  branches 
of  human  knowledge,  it  reached  definite  conclusions,  it  presented 
them  in  clear  and  precise  language,  it  had  a  fixed  terminology  ; 
it  impressed  the  schoolmen,  as  it  impresses  every  one,  as  the 
work  of  calm  impersonal  reason.  It  satisfied  the  scholastic  bent 
for  dialectics,  giving  reasons  for  and  against  every  important 
thesis;  it  was  the  work  of  the  master  of  logic. 

And  there  was  much  in  the  content  of  the  teachings  them- 
selves that  fitted  in  with  the  demands  of  the  School  ;  and  where 
agreement  seemed  to  end,  the  scholastic  mind  had  no  difficulty 
in  compelling  harmony  by  convenient  interpretations  or  by 
modifying  doctrines  to  meet  the  church  view.  Aristotle  taught 
the  existence  of  a  purely  spiritual  God,  distinct  from  the  uni- 
verse and  transcending  it,  yet  the  first  and  final  cause  of  it: 
a  theistic  and  dualistic  conception  which  corroborated  the  Chris- 
tian view.  He  offered  a  thoroughgoing  teleological  theory  of 


PREDOMINANCE  OF  ARISTOTLE  189 

nature,  one  that  always  appeals  to  common-sense  and  one  that 
was  particularly  attractive  to  an  age  beginning  to  take  an  interest 
in  the  study  of  nature.  Here,  then,  seemed  to  be  a  system  that 
organized  the  field  of  human  knowledge  as  completely  as  the 
dogmatic  system  aimed  to  organize  the  field  of  revealed  knowl- 
edge. It  is  not  surprising  that  the  "  prince  of  those  who  know  " 
soon  became  the  greatest  authority  in  "  natural  things,"  and 
that  scholasticism  now  undertook  to  use  him  as  a  support  for 
the  Christian  world-view. 

There  were,  it  is  true,  serious  points  of  difference  between 
the  Aristotelian  system  and  the  Christian  philosophy,  differences 
which  made  themselves  felt  in  the  course  of  the  history  of 
scholasticism.  Aristotle  taught  the  eternity  of  the  universe,  the 
Church  creation  out  of  nothing;  he  did  not  teach  personal  im- 
mortality, the  Church  did;  his  ethics  was  naturalistic,  the 
Church's  supernaturalistic.  But  where  differences  and  difficul- 
ties showed  themselves,  the  schoolmen  harmonized,  reconciled, 
modified,  and  supplemented  to  suit  their  needs,  with  brilliant 
results,  as  we  shall  see. 

The  traditional  theological  movement  of  the  twelfth  century, 
however,  did  not  come  to  an  end  with  the  advent  of  Aristotle, 
The  church  dogma  had  developed  under  the  influ- 
ence of  Platonic  conceptions,  and  the  Augustinian 
theology,  which  represented  the  first  great  syn- 
thesis of  orthodox  thought  and  Greek  philosophy,  continued  to 
exercise  an  important  influence.  The  function  of  the  School, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  was  to  assimilate 
the  new  material  as  best  it  could,  to  transform  it  in  accordance 
with  its  own  constitution, — only  to  be  itself  gradually  transformed 
ifc^the  process.  Some  of  the  Christian  teachers,  however,  are 
ver$  little  affected  by  the  new  philosophy,  remaining  true,  in 
the  main,  to  twelfth-century  traditions.  Among  these  are  Alex- 
ander of  Hales  (  +  1245)  and  Henry  of  Ghent  (+  1293).  Others, 
like  Albert  the  Great  and  Thomas  of  Aquin,  seek  a  synthesis 
of  the  traditional  theology  with  Peripatetic  thought;  still 
others,  like  Siger  of  Brabant  (+1282),  aim  at  a  pure  Aristo- 
telianism,  as  they  understand  it.  The  line  of  progress  for  the 
immediate  future  lies  in  the  direction  of  the  union  of  Peripa- 
tetic philosophy  with  the  past  achievements  of  scholasticism. 


190  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

Alexander  of  Hales  (+1245),  an  English  Franciscan  monk 
was  the  first  to  make  use  of  the  new  teachings  in  a  book  o 
Sentences  (Summa  universce  theologice)  in  order  to  prove  th< 
dogmas.  Questions  are  asked  and  answered,  and  the  answer 
demonstrated,  syllogistically,  by  references  to  authorities.  A 
authorities  in  matters  of  faith  he  regards  the  Latin  Fathers 
Ambrose,  Augustine,  Jerome;  also  the  Venerable  Bede,  Alcuirj 
Anselm,  the  Victorines,  Peter  the  Lombard,  Bernard  of  Clair 
vaux;  as  authorities  of  reason,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Alfarabi 
Avicenna,  Algazel,  Cicero,  Macrobius,  Boethius,  and  Cassiodorus 
In  his  theology,  metaphysics,  and  psychology,  Alexander  betray 
his  Augustinian  leanings,  as  well  as  his  failure  to  penetrat 
very  deeply  into  the  thought  of  the  new  movement. 

Albert  of  Bollstadt  was  born  in  Lauingen,  Wurtemberg,  1193,  studie< 
philosophy,  mathematics,  medicine,  and  theology  at  the  universities  o 
*  iv  ,  Padua  and  Bologna,  and  entered  the  order  of  th 

Dominicans  (1222).  He  won  great  fame  as  a  teacher  o 
philosophy  at  Paris  and  Cologne,  and  became  known  as  Albert  th< 
Great.  He  died  1280.  Albert  wrote  commentaries  on  Aristoteliai 
writings,  the  Scriptures,  and  Sentences;  philosophical  works  and  theo 
logical  works :  De  causis  et  processu  universitatis;  De  unitate  intellects, 
contra  Averroem;  Summa  theologies;  Paradisus  anim<z. 

Works  in  36  vols.  J.  Sighart,  Albertus  Magnus,  transl.  by  Dixon 
v.  Hertling,  Albertus  Magnus;  Feiler,  Die  Moral  des  Albertus  Magnus 

Albert  was  the  first  doctor  of  the  Church  to  offer  a  scholastii 
system  based  on  Aristotle's  philosophy.  Arabian  influences 
however,  are  clearly  discernible  in  his  work.  In  discussing  prob 
lems  having  a  theological  bearing,  he  also  follows  the  Guid* 
for  the  Errant  (Moreh  Nebucliim)  of  Moses  Maimonides,  whicl 
seems  to  be  more  in  harmony  with  the  orthodox  position  thai 
his  other  authorities.  He  showed  a  keen  interest  in  natural 
scientific  studies,  and  has  often  been  called  the  precursor  o: 
Eoger  Bacon  in  this  field.  In  spite,  however,  of  his  insistenci 
on  experience  in  the  study  of  nature,  he  relapses  into  the  com 
mon  scholastic  habit  of  looking  at  it  through  the  eyes  of  Aris 
totle.  Albert  is  noted  for  the  breadth  rather  than  for  the  deptl 
of  his  learning,  being  inferior  to  his  great  pupil,  Thomas  o: 
Aquin,  in  critical  acumen  and  speculative  grasp. 

Philosophical  subjects,  Albert  says,  should  be  treated  philo 
sophically,  and  theological  subjects  theologically.  This  tendency 


THOMAS  AQUINAS  191 

to  separate  the  two  fields,  which  foreshadows  the  doctrine  of  two- 
fold truth,  is  the  result  of  a  growing  conviction  on  the  part  of 
many  schoolmen  that  certain  dogmas,  like  the  doctrines  of  the 
Trinity  and  the  Incarnation,  cannot  be  demonstrated  logically. 
The  principle  that  nothing  can  come  from  nothing,  for  example, 
is  true  in  physics,  but  not  in  theology;  it  is  true  of  particular 
or  secondary  causes,  but  not  true  of  ultimates.  Augustine  is 
his  chief  authority  in  matters  of  faith  and  Aristotle  in  natural 
science  and  rational  theology,  although  he  admits  that  the  Greek 
thinker  is  not  always  in  agreement  with  dogmatic  theology. 

Albert's  thought  was  developed  and  perfected,  in  a  masterly 
manner,  by  his  pupil  Thomas,  whose  comprehensive  system  will 
serve  as  the  best  example  of  thirteenth-century  scholasticism. 

30.    THOMAS  AQUINAS 

Thomas,  the  son  of  Count  Landolfo,  of  Aquino,  was  born  1225  or  1227 
at  the  ancestral  castle  near  Naples,  and  was  taught  by  Benedictine 
monks  in  the  monastery  of  Monte  Cassino.  At  an  early  age  he  joined 
the  order  of  the  Dominicans,  against  the  protests  of  his  father,  and 
continued  his  studies  at  Paris  and  Cologne,  where  he  became  a  pupil 
of  Albert  the  Great.  After  the  completion  of  his  academic  apprentice- 
ship, he  taught  theology  and  philosophy  at  Cologne,  Paris,  Bologna, 
Rome,  and  Naples,  changing  his  residence  frequently,  and  devoted 
himself  to  the  construction  of  the  greatest  Catholic  system  of  thought 
that  has  ever  been  offered.  He  died  in  1274.  He  was  called  by  his 
contemporaries  the  angelic  doctor  (doctor  angelicus)  and  was  canonized 
by  Pope  John  XXII  in  1323. 

Thomas  wrote  commentaries  on  many  works,  among  them  Aristotle's, 
and  many  philosophical  and  theological  monographs.  His  chief  works 
are :  Summa  theologize;  Summa  contra  Gentiles;  De  regimine  principum 
(his  only  in  part). 

Edition  of  works  published  by  Pope  Leo  XIII;  transl.  of  Summa 
theologies  by  Rickaby,  Ashley.  Vaughan,  St.  Thomas  of  Aquin;  Ser- 
tillanges,  St.  Th.  d' Aquin,  2  vols. ;  Werner,  T.  von  Aquino,  3  vols.; 
Jourdain,  La  philosophie  de  T.  d' Aquino;  books  by  C.  Schneider; 
Schiitz,  Thomas-Lexikon. 

The  system  of  Thomas  is  typical  of  the  movement  we  have 
been  describing.     Its  fundamental  aim  is  to  demonstrate  the 
rationality  of  the  universe  as  a  revelation  of  Go<j- 
In  its  general  outlines  it  agrees  with  the L  Angus-  an(J  geology 
tinian   metaphysics,  accepting  as  guiding  princi- 
ples the  teachings  which  had  become  the  heritage  of  the  Church. 
But  it  adopts  Aristotle's  method  and  operates  throughout  with 


192  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

Aristotelian  conceptions:  we  hear  again  of  actus  purus,  for 
and  matter,  actuality  and  potentiality,  the  four  kinds  of  caus; 
tion,  and  other  Peripatetic  principles  of  explanation.  Witha 
no  attempt  is  made  to  weaken  the  validity  of  the  church  dogim 
or  the  ecclesiastical  means  of  salvation ;  the  naturalism  of  Ari 
totle  in  no  wise  interferes  with  the  supernaturalism  of  the  Chri 
tian  scheme  of  thought,  so  that  no  complaint  can  be  made  again; 
the  strict  orthodoxy  of  St.  Thomas. 

Philosophy,  according  to  Thomas,  passes  from  facts  to  Go< 
theology  from  God  to  facts.  He  follows  Albert  in  his  distin 
tion  between  reason  and  faith:  dogmas  like  the  Trinity,  tl 
Incarnation,  original  sin,  the  creation  of  the  world  in  time,  tl 
sacraments,  cannot  be  demonstrated  by  natural  reason ;  they  a: 
not  objects  of  philosophy,  but  matters  of  faith,  revealed  truth 
— beyond  reason,  but  not  contrary  to  reason.  We  cannot  pro1' 
them  nor  can  we  disprove  them,  but  we  can  disprove  objectioi 
to  them.  No  necessary  proof  can  be  offered,  for  example,  thi 
the  world  was  created  in  time;  that  is  a  matter  of  revelatio 
otherwise  we  should  not  know  it ;  but  there  is  nothing  unreaso: 
able  in  the  doctrine.  Only  in  case  we  already  believe  in  thei 
articles  of  faith,  can  their  reasonableness,  their  probability,  the 
plausibility,  be  made  clear.  Any  attempt  to  give  a  ration 
proof  of  the  mysteries  of  religion  really  detracts  from  faitl 
there  would  be  no  merit  in  believing  only  what  can  be  demoi 
strated  to  reason.  Faith  is  a  matter  of  will ;  the  will  comman< 
acceptance ;  this  compulsion  Thomas  explains  as  an  inner  instin 
(God  invites  us  to  believe)  or  as  coming  to  us  from  without,  i 
the  result  of  miracles. 

The  separation  of  revealed  theology  from  natural  or  ration 
theology  and  philosophy  was  officially  recognized  by  the  UD 
versity  of  Paris  in  a  decree  * '  that  no  teacher  of  philosophy  sha 
consider  any  one  of  the  specifically  theological  questions."  '. 
has  since  been  accepted  by  orthodox  Christianity,  Catholic  ! 
well  as  Protestant. /Thomas  rendered  a  service  to  philosophy  t 
making  a  distinction  which  eventually  led  to  the  elimination  < 
such  questions  from  philosophical  discussions ;  Duns  Scotus  ar 
his  followers  went  a  step  farther  in  also  withdrawing  ration 
or  natural  theology  from  the  jurisdiction  of  reason  and  turnir 
^all  problems  concerning  God  over  to  faith. 


THOMAS  AQUINAS  193 

Thomas's  attitude  on  this  question  finds  its  partial  explana- 
tion in  his  method  and  theory  of  knowledge,  in  which  he  largely 
follows  Aristotle.  GjmuinaJoiowledge  is  concep- 
tual knowledge.  Concepts,  however,  have  their  knowledge 
basis  in  sense-percejptiqn :  there  is  nothing  in  the 
intellect  that  was  not  first  in  sensation.  The  soul  has  different 
functions  or  faculties,  the  faculty  of  sensation,  the  faculty  of 
active  intellect  (intellectus  agens),  and  the  faculty  of  potential 
intellect  (intellectus  possibilis).  It  is  by  virtue  of  such  powers 
that  the  soul  can  function  in  different  ways,  the  like  being 
assimilated  to  the  like.  Through  sensation  it  receives  copies  or 
forms  of  particular  objects,  or  "  sensible  species."  In  order  to 
be  known  or  received  by  the  potential  intellect,  which  is  entirely 
independent  of  the  body,  or  hyperorganic,  the  sensible  copy 
must  be  freed  from  everything  material  or  corporeal  in  it.  This 
is  done  by  the  active  intellect,  which  fashions  the  sensible  copy 
into  an  intelligible  copy  by  abstracting  from  it  such  elements  as 
conform  to  the  nature  of  this  intellect,  for  the  soul  can  assimi- 
late only  what  is  conformable  to  its  nature.  The  intelligible 
copy  or  "  intelligible  species,"  as  Thomas  calls  it,  is,  therefore, 
not  the  copy  of  a  particular  object  in  space  and  time  with  all 
its  accidental  properties,  but  contains  only  the  essential  quali- 
ties; through  it  the  potential  intellect  knows  or  conceives  the 
universal  notion  of  the  thing.  The  mind  could  not  know  if 
it  were  not  for  sensation;  nor  could  it  know  if  it  did  not  have 
the  natural  predisposition  for  forming  universal  notions  on  the 
occasion  of  sensation.  Thomas  points  out  both  the  sensational 
and  conceptual  phases  of  our  knowledge  in  this  teaching,  both 
its  particular  and  its  universal  aspect.  He  also  emphasizes  the 
active  or  spontaneous  nature  of  our  thinking  and  also  indicates 
its  a  priori  character :  the  mind  is  predisposed  to  act  in  certain 
ways;  indeed,  to  think  in  universal  terms.  Knowledge  is  im- 
plicit in  it;  it  is  made  explicit  when  the  mind  is  aroused  to 
action. 

Through  the  action  of  external  objects  on  the  soul,  the  raw 
material  of  knowledge  is  received  and  elaborated  by  the  higher 
faculties  of  the  mind  into  conceptual  knowledge.  Genuine 
knowledge,  or  Science  (scientia),  therefore,  has  its  basis  in  sense- 
perception,  in  experience,  and  we  can  know  only  what  we  ex- 


194  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

perience.  Consequently,  it  is  necessary  for  the  philosopher  t 
make  the  world  of  experience  the  starting-point  of  his  explam 
tion,  to  rise  from  an  analysis  of  experience  to  the  principle; 
or  essence,  or  being  of  things.  Such  a  science  of  being  is  met? 
physics.  We  abstract  from  the  particular  objects  their  commo: 
qualities,  or  think  in  universals.  Hence,  we  can  have  Scienc 
only  where  universals  are  possible,  only  where  there  are  pai 

ticulars  with  common   qualities. Since  spiritual  beings   fori 

each  its  own  species,  we  can  have  no  universal  notions  of  sue 
beings,  no  genuine  knowledge  of  them. 

Since  Science  has  the  universal  for  its  object,  universals  mus 
be  real,  otherwise  there  could  be  no  truth.  But  universals  ar 
.  not  real  in  the  sense  of  existing  apart  from  pai 
ticular  objects:  they  are  not  "  subsisting  "  thing: 
i.e.,  they  do  not  exist  as  entities.  The  universal  exists  in  pai 
ticular  objects  as  the  one  in  the  many,  as  the  essence  of  thing! 
or  their  quidditas,  their  whatness,  as  Thomas  calls  it.  At  th 
same  time,  Thomas,  like  Albert,  agrees  with  Aristotle  in  cor 
ceiving  ideas  or  forms  or  universals  as  immanent  in  the  min 
of  God;  they  are  both  that  and  abstractions  from  things  in  th 
mind  of  man. 

Forms  or  universals  are,  therefore,  necessary  principles  o 
explanation  in  metaphysics.  They  do  not,  however,  taken  b 
themselves,  account  for  the  world  of  natural  objects ;  with  Aris 
totle,  Thomas  introduces  a  second  principle,  matter:  nature  i 
a  union  of  form  and  matter.  The  nature  or  substance  of 
corporeal  being  consists  of  form  and  matter:  bv^ubstanc 
Thomas  means  that  through  which  a  thing  is  what  it  is ;  natura 
objects  are  what  they  are  through  matter  and  form.  With  th 
help  of  these  two  principles,  Thomas  attempts  not  only  to  accour 
for  the  order  and  purposiveness  in  nature,  but  also  to.  explai: 
the  existence  of  particular  objects,  or  the  plurality  and  diversit 
of  things.  Some  realists  regarded  the  form  as  responsible  fo 
the  existence  of  particular  individual  objects,  as  the  principle  o 
individuation  ;  according  to  Thomas,  matter  is  the  principle  o 
individuation.  The  diversity  of  individuals  of  the  same  specie 
depends  on  differences  of  bodily  constitution;  the  materi 
signata  or  materia  individualis,  or  definite  quantity  of  matte 
which  a  particular  natural  object  has,  together  with  all  th 


THOMAS  AQUINAS  195 

particular  accidents  peculiar  to  this  particular  quantum  of  mat- 
ter, makes  the  particular  individual  object  just  what  it  is.  In 
the  case  of  man,  it  is  because  the  soul  is  connected  with  a  par- 
ticular organic  body  that  he  is  this  particular  person.  Socrates 
is  Socrates  and  no  one  else  because  of  the  particular  matter  pecu- 
liar to  him. 

Besides  the  forms  wThich  inhere  in  matter  (inherent  or  mate- 
rial forms),  there  are  forms  which  can  exist  by  themselves,  which 
do  not  need  matter  in  order  to  be  real  (subsistent  forms). 
Among  such  are  pure  spiritual  beings,  or  angels,  and  human 
souls.  Their  substance  or  nature,  that  through  which  they  are 
what  they  are,  is  not  matter  and  form,  but  form  alone:  they 
individualize  themselves,  owe  their  individuality  to  themselves. 

God  is  pure  form,  pure  actuality.  We  have  a  knowledge  of 
God  by  faith,  but  we  can  also  reach  a  knowledge  of  him  by 
reasoning,  in  the  manner  already  indicated;  such 
knowledge,  however,  is  indirect  or  mediate  knowl- 
edge. In  all  our  reasoning  we  pass  from  the  known  to  the  un- 
known, from  the  effect  to  the  cause,  from  the  conditioned  to  the 
unconditioned.  We  infer  the  existence  of  God  from  his  crea- 
tion, we  can  prove  it  only  by  the  a  posteriori  method.  Thomas 
rejects  the  ontological  argument  of  Anselm  and  makes  use  of 
a  number  of  proofs  already  employed  by  Aristotle,  Augustine, 
and  the  Arabian  philosophers,  (a)  Everything  that  is  moved 
requires  something  to  move  it,  every  effect  implies  a  cause: 
there  must,  therefore,  be  a  first  unmoved  principle  of  motion, 
otherwise  we  should  be  compelled  to  go  on  ad  infinitum  in  the 
causal  series,  and  never  reach  the  end.  There  must  be  some- 
thing that  exists  per  se,  by  itself,  that  does  not  need  anything 
else  through  which  it  exists.  (Aristotle.)  (b)  Natural  objects 
are  merely  contingent,  or  possible;  it  is  not  necessary  that  this 
or  that  particular  object  exist;  there  must,  however,  be  some- 
thing that  is  not  merely  possible,  but  real,  or  necessary,  some- 
thing that  forms  the  ground  or  basis  of  the  contingent  or  pos- 
sible, something  that  is  absolutely  necessary.  (Alfarabi.) 
These  two  arguments  constitute  what  Kant  later  called  the  cos- 
mological  argument,  (c)  Things  form  a  graduated  scale  of 
excellence;  there  must  be  a  highest  form  or  degree  of  perfec- 
tion to  complete  this  series  of  more  and  less  perfect  objects. 


196  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

And  since  everything  is  caused  by  the  first  cause,  the  first  cause 
must  be  the  most  perfect  cause,  the  most  perfect  being,  the  cause 
of  all  perfect  things  in  the  universe.  (Augustine.)  (d)  Every- 
thing in  nature  realizes  an  end  or  purpose.  Such  action  implies 
an  intelligence  to  guide  it ;  a  purposeful  universe  implies  a  great 
purposer,  an  intelligent  God.  The  last  two  proofs  are  teleo- 
logical  proofs;  they  were  in  common  use  among  the  Greeks  and 
the  schoolmen. 

God,  therefore,  is  the  first  and  final  (purposive)  cau.se  of  the 
universe.  He  is  pure  actuality  or  energy;  if  he  were  mere  po- 
tential being,  something  else  would  be  required  to  make  him 
actual  or  real,  and  he  would  not  be  the  first  cause.  As  pure 
actuality,  God  is  absolutely  simple  and  absolutely  perfect;  he 
is  also  absolute  intelligence :  absolute  consciousness  and  absolute 
will. 

God  created  the  world,  matter  included,  out  of  nothing.  For, 
if  God  is  the  first  cause  of  all  things,  he  must  be  the  cause  of 
both  matter  and  form.  And  since  he  is  pure  spirit  unmixed  with 
matter,  matter  could  not  have  emanated  from  him;  he  must  have 
created  it  out  of  nothing.  It  cannot,  however,  be  demonstrated 
that  the  world  had  a  beginning  in  time,  any  more  than  it  can 
be  demonstrated  that  it  had  no  beginning;  both  views  are  pos- 
sible. Creation  from  nothing  simply  means  that  the  world  owes 
its  existence  to  God,  that  God  is  its  necessary  cause;  it  does 
not  imply  either  temporal  or  eternal  creation.  We  are,  there- 
fore, dependent  on  revelation  for  the  belief  that  the  universe 
had  a  beginning  in  time.  Time  began  with  the  creation  of 
the  world.  God  not  only  created  the  world,  but  is  responsible 
for  its  existence  at  every  moment  of  time :  his  creation  is  a  con- 
tinuous creation.  He  has  chosen  this  world  as  the  best  of  all 
possible  worlds.  He  can  will  only  the  best,  since  his  will 
is  determined  by  the  good.  His  purpose  in  creation  is  to  reveal 
himself  in  all  possible  ways,  hence  he  creates  all  possible  grades 
of  being. 

God  created  nature,  human  souls,  and  angels.    Angels  are  pure 

immaterial  spirits,  there  being  as  many  species  of  angels  as 

there  are  individual  angels.     Natural  objects  are 

corporeal,  in  them  form  inheres  in  matter;  there 

are  plant  souls  and  animal  souls,  but  they  have  no  existence  apart 


THOMAS  AQUINAS  197 

from  matter.  Man  is  both  pure  spirit  and  matter;  he  is  one 
person,  two  principles  of  being  in  one  complete  substance.  The 
soul,  however,  is  an  immaterial  "  subsistent  "  form,  the  en- 
telechy  of  the  body.  It  is  intelligent,  sensitive,  and  organic: 
the  formative  or  vital  principle  of  the  body,  the  moving  prin- 
ciple, the  sensitive  principle,  and  the  intellectual  principle.  It 
is  one  soul  possessing  different  capacities  or  functions.  The 
embryo  has  the  organic  and  sensitive  soul;  the  intellectual  soul 
is  added  at  birth, — God  creates  the  soul  as  soon  as  the  body  is 
predisposed  or  ready  to  receive  it.  Intelligence  and  will  con- 
stitute the  essence  of  the  human  soul  and  differentiate  it  from 
other  souls.  Although  it  is  intimately  united  with  an  organic 
body,  its  intellectual  aspect  is  hyperorganic,  wholly  free  from 
the  body.  In  other  words,  the  human  being  is  a  union  of  mind 
and  body;  the  two  are  intimately  connected,  but  evidently  not 
so  inextricably  bound  together  as  form  and  matter  in  nature  in 
general.  The  soul  is  an  intelligent,  sensitive,  and  vital  prin- 
ciple, a  trinity  which  forms  and  moves  the  body  predisposed 
to  such  action,  as  well  as  feels,  thinks,  and  wills. 

The  intelligent  soul  can,  therefore,  exercise  its  functions  with- 
out a  body ;  it  is  immortal :  ' '  after  the  dissolution  of  the  body 
it  can  remain  active/'  There  is  not  one  universal  intelligence, 
as  the  Arabians  held;  if  there  were,  man  would  be  neither  a 
rational  nor  a  moral  being,  his  thinking  and  willing  would  be 
the  work  of  something  distinct  from  him.  The  individual  soul 
continues  to  exist  after  death  in  all  its  parts,  as  intellect,  sense- 
soul,  and  organic  soul, — for  these  constitute  one  single  soul; — 
and  forms  a  new  body  for  itself  like  its  old  one. 

The  arguments  for  immortality  used  by  Thomas  are  the  old 
Platonic  arguments  which  had  become  the  common  property  of 
the  Christian  and  Arabian  world.  The  human  soul  knows  uni- 
versals  and  is,  therefore,  immaterial,  hence  separation  from  the 
body  cannot  destroy  it;  and  since  it  is  an  actual  form  (a  living 
principle),  it  cannot  perish,  for  actuality  (life)  implies  con- 
tinued existence.  Moreover,  the  soul's  desire  for  immortality 
is  another  reason  for  its  imperishableness ;  every  natural  desire 
must  be  satisfied. 

Corresponding  to  sensible  knowledge  and  supersensible  or 
rational  knowledge,  man  has  sensuous  desire  and  rational  desire 


198  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

or  will.  He  is  not  absolutely  determined  in  his  desires  an 
actions  by  sense-impressions  like  the  brute,  from  without,  as 
were ;  but  has  the  faculty  of  self-determination :  it  lies  in  h 
power  to  act  or  not  to  act.  But  in  order  that  the  will  may  di 
cide,  it  must  have  before  it  the  notion  of  the  good.  Hence,  ii 
telligence  moves  the  will ;  but  it  does  not  compel  or  coerce  tl 
will,  it  moves  it  by  placing  before  it  its  own  object,  that  is,  ii 
purpose  or  end.  The  will,  on  the  other  hand,  is  "  the  prhr 
mover  in  the  kingdom  of  the  soul  "  in  the  sense  that  it  promp 
intelligence  and  sensibility  to  action;  over  organic  life  it  hj 
no  control.  Intelligence  and  will,  therefore,  mutually  determir 
one  another,  according  to  Thomas,  but  the  intellect  takes  prec 
dence  over  the  will.  The  will  is  determined  by  what  intelligen< 
conceives  to  be  the  good,  by  a  rational  purpose.  This,  howeve 
is  not  compulsion ;  compulsion  exists  where  a  being  is  inevitabl 
determined  by  an  external  cause.  Man  is  free  because  he 
rational,  because  he  is  not  pushed  into  action  by  an  extern; 
cause  without  his  consent,  and  because  he  can  choose  betwee 
the  means  of  realizing  the  good  or  the  purpose  which  his  reasc 
conceives. 

The  ethics  of  Thomas  is  a  union  of  Aristotelian  and  Christia 
thoughts.  It  rests  on  the  thought  that  God  made  everythin 
for  a  purpose, — for  the  purpose  of  revealing  h 
goodness  in  creation, — that  the  nature  of  everythir 
points  in  the  direction  of  this  purpose,  and  that  every  creatui 
will  realize  the  divine  idea  and  reveal  the  goodness  of  God  I 
realizing  its  true  being.  The  highest  good,  therefore,  objective! 
considered,  is  God;  subjectively  viewed,  that  is,  for  creature 
it  is  their  greatest  possible  perfection,  or  likeness  to  Goi 
Thomas  agrees  with  Aristotle  that  the  supreme  good  for  mai 
which  he  calls  blessedness  (beatitudo) ,  consists  in  the  realiz, 
tion  of  his  true  self.  Irrational  beings  are  determined  by  nati 
ral  or  sensuous  impulses,  implanted  by  God,  to  realize  the 
goal;  while  rational  beings  seek  to  realize  it  consciously  an 
voluntarily.  The  highest  form  of  action  is  speculation  or  coi 
templation,  and  the  highest  object  of  speculation  is  God.  Henc 
man  realizes  his  true  self, — his  perfection  and  the  highest  bles 
edness, — in  the  knowledge  of  God.  But  there  are  many  ways  c 
knowing  God.  We  have  a  kind  of  natural,  immediate,  unr 


THOMAS  AQUINAS 


199 


fleeting  knowledge  of  God;  this,  however,  cannot  give  us  com- 
plete happiness  because  it  is  not  perfect  activity.  We  may  attain 
a  knowledge  of  him  by  reasoning,  but  not  all  human  beings  can 
reach  it  in  this  way,  and,  besides,  it  is  not  certain  enough.  We 
may  know  him  by  faith,  but  faith  depends  on  will,  and  lacks 
self-evidence.  The  highest  knowledge  of  God  is  intuitive:  this 
is  attained  only  in  fhe  hereafter  and  endures  forever;  it  yields 
supreme  happiness  and  is  the  supreme  goal  of  human  striving. 
They  are  most  like  God  who  know  God  as  God  knows  himself. 

We  have  here  the  Christian  completion  of  the  Aristotelian 
idea.  For  Aristotle  the  supreme  good  was  speculative  knowl- 
edge, philosophy,  the  pure  contemplation  of  God.  The  phi- 
losopher, or  wise  man,  after  all,  was  his  ideal.  For  Thomas,  too, 
knowledge  of  God  is  the  highest  good,  but  it  is  gained  by  in- 
tuition :  it J£_a  beatific  vision,  possible  only  in  the  life  to  come. 
In  this  sense  It  is  a  sujpernatural  good;  supernatural,  also,  in 
the  sense  of  being  a  supernatural  gift  of  grace.  Since  blessed- 
ness is  nothing  but  the  attainment  of  the  highest  good,  there 
can  be  no  blessedness  without  happiness  (delectatio)  accom- 
panying it.  Love  is  another  concomitant  of  blessedness:  we 
cannot  see  God  without  loving  him. 

Thomas  does  not  confine  himself  to  the  discussion  of  the 
summum  bonum  in  his  ethics,  but  enters  upon  a  careful  analysis 
of  moral  conduct  and  a  full  treatment  of  the  virtues.  Acts  are 
callecf  moral  which  are  the  result  of  deliberation  and  choice ; 
the  acts,  in  other  words,  of  free,  rational  beings.  The  goodness 
or  badness  of  an  act  depends  on  the  object  it  aims  at,  the  pur- 
pose or  intention  of  the  agent,  and  the  circumstances.  These 
must  conform  to  the  rule  of  reason,  which  is  the  principle  of 
human  conduct.  The  supreme  criterion  of  moral  conduct  is 
the  reason  of  God,  the  eternal  or  divine  law  (lex  (sterna),  the 
laws  of  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament.  The  law  of  the  Old 
Testament  has  an  earthly  goal,  demands  just  works,  and  has  fear 
for  its  motive ;  the  law  of  the  New  Testament  has  a  heavenly  goal, 
demands  holiness  of  will,  and  its  motive  is  love.  The  law  of 
God,  however,  is  not  an  arbitrary  law ;  God  cannot  will  anything 
but  the  good.  Besides  the  eternal  law,  there  is  natural  or  human 
law  (lex  naturae),  the  law  which  is  written  on  our  hearts. 
Hence,  in  order  to  be  good,  an  act  should  conform  to  reason 


200  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

quickened  by  divine  law  or  natural  law,  as  the  result  of  instruc 
tion  or  infusion. 

Conscience  is  explained  by  Thomas  in  the  medieval  fashion 
The  intellect  is  speculative  and  practical ;  reason  is  endowed  wit! 
both  practical  and  theoretical  principles.  As  the  faculty  of  mora 
principles,  reason  is  called  synteresis.  The  synteresis  furnishes 
the  major  premise  of  a  syllogism :  All  evil  ought  to  be  avoided 
an  inferior  reason  or  the  Bible  informs  us  that  adultery  is  evil 
conscience  (syneidesis)  draws  the  conclusion  that  adultery  ough 
to  be  avoided. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  immoral  character  of  ai 
external  act  depends  exclusively  on  the  will;  an  act  may  b< 
good  as  such,  but  it  may  be  turned  to  an  immoral  purpose  anc 
so  be  bad.  An  external  act,  however,  which  as  such  is  evil  cai 
never  be  made  good  by  the  will  directing  it  to  a  good  end 
That  is,  Thomas  does  not  preach  the  doctrine  that  the  end  justi 
fies  the  means.  As  to  the  so-called  "  passions  of  the  soul,"  thi 
appetites  of  sense,  these  are  not  always  morally  bad;  they  ar« 
so  only  when  they  fail  to  conform  to  the  rule  of  reason. 

Thomas  follows  Aristotle  in  his  treatment  and  classificatioi 
of  the  virtues,  supplementing  this,  however,  with  Christian 
conceptions.  No  virtue  is  inborn;  all  virtues  may  be  acquire* 
by  the  performance  of  virtuous  acts.  Such  acquired  virtues  leai 
to  imperfect  or  incomplete  happiness,  which  is  possible  in  thi 
life.  In  order  to  realize  eternal  blessedness,  a  supernatura 
principle  of  grace  must  be  added  to  the  soul  by  God,  a  highe 
form  which  makes  possible  a  higher  perfection  and  a  highe 
being.  Certain  supernatural  virtues  are  poured  into  man,  o 
infused,  by  God:  the  three  theological  virtues,  faith,  hope,  am 
charity.  Without  these,  the  supernatural  goal  cannot  be  reached 
The  ethical  virtues,  too,  in  order  to  help  us  in  realizing  the  lif 
of  blessedness,  must  needs  be  implanted  by  God;  as  mere  ac 
quired  virtues  they  are  of  no  avail  in  this  regard.  Love  i 
the  highest  of  the  infused  virtues,  the  perfect  form  of  all  th 
virtues. 

The  contemplative  life  is,  as  we  have  seen,  the  highest,  th 
most  blessed,  and  the  most  enjoyable  life.  The  state  of  con 
templation  can  be  reached  even  in  this  world.  Through  th 
illuminating  influence  of  God  a  state  of  rapture  may  be  prc 


THOMAS  AQUINAS  201 

duced,  in  which  the  soul  is  freed  from  the  senses  and  its  organs, 
and  lost  in  pure  action  (mysticism).  The  contemplative  life 
is  not  only  superior  to  the  practical  life,  but  also  more  merito- 
rious. It  is  grounded  on  the  love  of  God,  while  the  practical 
life  is  grounded  on  the  love  of  man.  In  so  far  as  the  active 
life  aims  at  outward  acts,  it  is  a  hindrance  to  the  speculative 
life ;  in  so  far  as  it  is  engaged  in  the  control  of  the  senses,  it  is  a 
help  to  it. 

The  safest  and  quickest  way  to  blessedness  is  the  total  aban- 
donment of  earthly  goods  and  the  seeking  of  eternal  life.  This 
course  cannot  be  commanded,  it  can  only  be  advised:  there  are 
certain  evangelical  counsels  (consilia  evangelica} ,  poverty, 
celibacy,  and  obedience,  by  following  which  a  higher  perfection 
is  attained.  For  Thomas  as  for  Augustine  and,  indeed,  for  all 
the  priests  of  the  Church,  the  monastic  or  ascetic  life  is  the  ideal 
life;  this,  however,  is  only  for  the  few;  for  the  great  mass  o£ 
men,  who  live  in  the  world,  a  lower  limit  is  set. 

The  contrast  between  Greek  and  medieval  ethics,  to  which  at- 
tention has  already  been  called,  is  plainly  marked  in  the  moral 
philosophy  of  Thomas  Aquinas.  For  the  Greek  philosopher  the 
highest  good  is  always  some  phase  or  achievement  of  our  earthly 
human  life,  be  it  virtue  or  happiness ;  something,  moreover,  that 
may  be  attained  in  a  perfectly  natural  manner,  through  the 
exercise  of  virtue  and  with  the  aid  of  human  reason.  Accord- 
ing to  the  medieval  theologian,  the  highest  good  is  not  a  life  in 
the  world, — this  earthly  existence  is  but  a  pilgrimage  to  God, — 
but  eternal  blessedness  in  the  life  to  come.  And  the  attain- 
ment of  the  goal  does  not  follow  naturally  and  necessarily  from 
the  performance  of  virtuous  conduct,  but  depends  on  the  super- 
natural grace  of  God  himself.  The  ideal  good  man  is  not  the 
wise  man,  but  the  holy  man,  the  man  who,  inspired  by  love  and 
respect  of  God,  does  the  will  of  God  completely.  The  state 
of  holiness  can  be  best  attained  in  the  monastery,  away  from 
the  temptations  and  complications  of  the  world. 

Evil  Thomas  regards,  with  Augustine,  as  privation.  In  so  far 
as  a  thing  acts  according  to  its  nature,  which  is  good,  it  cannot 
cause  evil.  Evil  is  due  to  defective  action  on  the  part  of  the 
form,  or  cause,  or  to  the  defective  state  of  matter,  the  effect. 
In  the  case  of  moral  evil,  the  defect  lies  in  the  will,  which  lacks 


202  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

the  direction  of  the  rule  of  reason  and  of  the  divine  law.  A' 
things  aim  at  good,  hence  when  they  realize  evil,  it  is  outsid 
of  their  intention.  This  is  particularly  true  of  free  rations 
beings.  Whatever  they  strive  for,  they  regard  as  good.  It  ma 
be  evil;  it  is  not  because  it  is  evil,  however,  that  they  desire  i' 
but  because  they  view  it  sub  ratione  boni. 

Thomas  caps  his  ethical  system  with  a  doctrine  of  salvatio 
that  follows  Augustine  and  the  orthodox  theology.  In  the  Ari? 
totelian  metaphysics,  the  lower  stages  of  existence  are  conceive 
as  the  matter  of  the  next  higher  stages,  which  are  forms  in  relg 
tion  to  them ;  and  so  on  to  the  end  of  the  series.  Thomas  make 
use  of  this  thought  in  calling  the  natural  man  the  matter  an 
preparation  for  the  spiritual  man,  the  man  in  whom  the  grac 
of  God  operates  and  who,  therefore,  can  rise  to  a  still  highe 
state  of  perfection  than  is  possible  to  the  Aristotelian  mar 
Through  Adam's  sin  man's  nature  was  corrupted  and  his  guil 
transmitted  to  his  descendants  (original  sin),  and  only  divin 
grace  can  redeem  him.  The  sacraments  of  the  Church  are  th 
organs  or  instruments  through  which  God  bestows  his  grace 
God  endows  those  with  grace  who  are  to  be  saved.  This  doe 
not  abolish  the  freedom  of  the  will,  in  Thomas's  opinion,  be 
cause  grace  can  act  in  man  only  with  the  cooperation  of  hi 
will.  God  is  not  responsible  for  man's  failure  to  return  to  him 
he  foresees  that  certain  persons  will  abuse  their  freedom  an< 
do  evil;  he  permits  it  and  predestines  such  persons  for  punish 
ment.  The  goal  of  all  ethical  and  religious  progress,  howevei 
is  universal  resurrection,  in  which  is  included  the  resurrectioi 
of  the  body. 

In  his  theory  of  the  State,  Thomas  fuses  Aristotelian  concep 
tions  with  the  ideals  of  the  Christian  polity  already  set  fort! 

.  .  in  Augustine's  City  of  God.  Man  is  a  politica 

being  and  seeks  life  in  society.  The  purpose  of  al 
government  is  the  common  weal ;  this  is  possible  only  in  a  society 
in  which  there  is  internal  unity  or  peace  and  security  agains 
external  foes,  and  can  be  best  attained  by  a  centralized  govern 
ment  or  a  monarchy.  The  monarchy  must  be  so  constitute( 
as  to  prevent  tyranny ;  but  even  in  case  of  extreme  oppression 
regicide  and  revolution  are  never  justifiable.  The  remedy  shouk 
be  sought  by  legal  means,  in  accordance  with  the  constitution,— 


ANTI-SCHOLASTIC  TENDENCIES  203 

for  the  political  order  is  a  divine  order; — when  that  is  not  pos- 
sible, the  outcome  must  be  left  with  God. 

The  Prince  should  keep  in  view  the  divine  purpose  and  enable 
his  subjects  to  realize  the  highest  good.  But  since  the  highest 
good  of  mankind  is  eternal  blessedness,  the  Church  and  its  head, 
the  Pope,  who  is  God's  vicegerent  on  earth,  are  superior  to  the 
secular  power.  In  spiritual  affairs,  therefore,  the  temporal 
rulers  are  subordinate  to  the  priests;  they  are  vassals  of  the 
Church,  and  their  subjects  do  not  owe  them  loyalty  after  they 
have  been  excommunicated.  The  State  is  no  longer  regarded  as 
the  result  of  the  sinful  nature  of  man,  as  in  Augustine's  City 
of  God,  but  is  a  divinely  established  institution. 

Among  the  followers  of  Thomas  we  mention:  ^Egidius  of  Lessines 
(1278),  Gottfried  of  Fontaines  (circa  1283),  ^Egidius  Colonna 
(+1316),  Thomas  of  Strasburg  (+1357),  Herve  de  Nedellec  (+1323), 
Thomas  Bradwardine  (+1349),  Capreolus  (+1444),  Dominicus  of 
Flanders  (+1500),  Thomas  de  Vio  (Cajetanus,  +1534).  The  poet 
Dante  (1265-1321)  is  an  enthusiastic  follower  of  the  Thomistic  teach- 
ings in  his  Divina  Commedia. 

A  modified  Thomism  is  taught  by  the  Jesuit  Molina,  Gabriel  Vasquez 
(+1604),  and  Francis  Suarez  (+1617).  Francis  Vittoria  (+1546) 
and  Banez  (+1604)  advocate  the  original  Thomistic  views. 

The  Dominicans  made  Thomas  "  the  doctor  of  the  order "  in  1286. 
The  Jesuits  adopted  the  Thomistic  teachings  at  the  foundation  of  their 
order  by  Loyola  (1534),  but  later  departed  from  them.  Pope  Leo 
XIII,  the  predecessor  of  the  present  Pope,  made  the  philosophy  of 
St.  Thomas  the  official  philosophy  of  the  Catholic  Church  and  ordered 
the  publication  of  a  new  edition  of  his  works.  Thomism  is  to-day  the 
leading  philosophical  system  in  Catholicism:  the  teachers  and  writers 
of  the  Church  base  themselves  on  Thomas. 


31.   ANTI-SCHOLASTIC  TENDENCIES:  MYSTICISM,  PANTHEISM,  AND 
NATURAL  SCIENCE 

In  addition  to  the  great  scholastic  systems  of  Albert  and 
Thomas,  we  find  in  the  thirteenth  century  the  same  supplemen- 
tary and  antagonistic  movements  which  we  noted  .  . 
in  our  survey  of  twelfth-century  thought:  mysti- 
cism,  logical  and  scientific  studies,  and  pantheism  continued  to 
attract  many  scholars  of  the  Church. 

John  Fidanza   (1221-1274),  called  Bonaventura,  a  pupil  of 
Alexander  of  Hales,  belonged  to  the  Franciscan  order,  in  which 


204  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

Augustinianism  was  popular.  Although  he  wrote  Sentences 
and  exegetical  works,  he  is  particularly  noted  as  a  mystic.  His 
leanings  are  toward  the  Augustinian-Platonic  mode  of  thought, 
and  his  mysticism  does  not  essentially  differ  from  that  of  the 
school  of  St.  Victor.  His  chief  mystical  work  is  the  Itinerarium 
mentis  ad  Deum. 

The  way  to  God  leads  from  cogitatio  through  meditatio  to 
contemplatio.  In  contemplation  we  pass  through  several  stages: 
we  contemplate  God  in  the  corporeal  world,  then  in  our  own 
inner  life,  and  rise  from  this  to  the  immediate  vision  of  God 
himself.  On  the  highest  stage  the  soul  transcends  itself,  enters 
upon  a  state  of  holy  ignorance,  and  becomes  one  with  the  divine 
will  through  love.  The  preparation  for  such  a  state  of  ecstasy, 
which  is  a  gift  of  divine  grace,  is  a  life  of  holiness  and  prayer. 
As  the  supreme  form  of  Christian  perfection,  Bonaventura,  who 
was  himself  a  member  of  the  mendicant  order  of  St.  Francis 
of  Assisi,  regards  the  ascetic  life  in  the  monastery  with  its  vows 
of  poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience. 

See  works  on  Mysticism  mentioned  p.  177. 

Among  the  writers  who  occupied  themselves  with  the  study  of  logic 
and  grammar  are  William  of  Shyreswood  (+1249),  Lambert  of 
f  •  Auxerre  (-(-1250),  and  Petrus  Hispanus  (most  likely 

identical  with  Pope  John  XXI,  who  died  1277).  Peter 
wrote  a  text-book  on  logic,  Summulce  logicales,  which  largely  follows 
Aristotle  and  Boethius,  and  which  for  centuries  remained  an  authorita- 
tive work  on  the  subject.  Nicolas  of  Paris  (who  taught  at  Clos- 
Bruneau,  1250-1263)  combined  grammar  and  logic  in  his  Synca- 
tegoremata. 

As  has  been  pointed  out  before,  a  certain  interest  in  natural 
science  went  along  with  the  chief  intellectual  business  of  the 

Middle  Ages,  which  was  scholastic  philosophy. 
Scienc^  During  the  thirteenth  century  the  occupation  with 

scientific  studies  continued;  although  Eoger  Bacon, 
one  of  the  leaders  in  the  movement,  complains  of  the  scant 
attention  paid  to  such  things  outside  of  Oxford.  Among  those 
whom  we  have  already  mentioned  as  encouraging  an  interest 
in  nature  were  Adelard  of  Bath  and  Albert  the  Great.  In  Eng- 
land the  mathematical  and  physical  sciences  were  cultivated. 
Albert,  Vincent  of  Beauvais,  and  Roger  Bacon  devoted  them- 
selves to  geographical  studies.  The  scientific  men  of  the  times 


ANTI-SCHOLASTIC  TENDENCIES  205 

believed  that  the  earth  was  a  sphere,  a  view  which  the  Church 
condemned.  It  was  supposed  that  the  Mediterranean  basin  occu- 
pied the  center  of  the  earth,  and  that  India  could  be  reached 
by  the  sea  route  westward;  indeed,  Columbus  died  in  the  belief 
that  he  had  discovered  the  western  part  of  India. 

The  names  which  have  been  recorded  in  the  list  of  students  of  sci- 
ence are:  Alexander  Neckam  (+1217),  Alfred  Sarchel  (who  wrote  a 
treatise  on  the  motion  of  the  heart,  about  1225),  John  Peckham 
(+1292),  Roger  Bacon  (+1294),  Witelo  (born  about  1230),  and 
Dietrich  of  Freiberg  (a  teacher  at  Paris  from  1265-1269).  In  Witelo 
and  Dietrich  the  natural-scientific  interest  is  combined  with  Neoplatonic 
leanings. 

The  most  original  and  independent  figure  of  this  group  is 
Roger  Bacon  (+1294),  a  curious  mixture  of  the  medieval  and 
modern  scholar.  Roger,  who  was  a  Franciscan  monk  and  re- 
ceived his  training  at  Oxford  and  Paris,  devoted  himself  espe- 
cially to  the  study  of  mathematics  (which  he  regarded  as  the 
foundation  of  all  scientific  study  and  in  which  he  included 
arithmetic,  geometry,  astronomy,  and  music)  and  the  physical 
sciences,  among  which  he  enumerates  perspective,  judiciary  and 
operative  astronomy,  alchemy,  agriculture  (plants  and  animals), 
medicine,  astrology,  and  magic.  He  also  regarded  the  study  of 
languages,  Greek,  Hebrew,  Arabic,  and  Chaldean,  as  indispensa- 
ble to  theology  and  philosophy.  Metaphysics  is  the  science  of 
first  principles.  Roger  recorded  his  thoughts  in  an  encyclopedic 
work,  the  Opus  majus. 

Opus  majus  edited  by  Jebb,  Bridges;  unpublished  writings  by 
Brewer;  other  unpublished  writings  by  Steele;  an  unpublished  frag- 
ment of  Opus  tertium  by  Duhem;  Essays  by  Watt. 

Charles,  R.  Bacon,  etc. ;  H.  Siebert,  R.  Bacon;  E.  Fliigel,  R.  Bacons 
Stellung  in  der  Geschichte  der  Philosophic;  Parrot,  R.  Bacon  et  ses 
contemporains ;  Werner,  I  sychologie,  and  Kosmologie  des  R.  Bacon; 
Vogl,  Physik  R.  Bacons. 

Of  the  two  methods  of  knowledge,  demonstration  and  experi- 
ence, Bacon  lays  stress  on  the  latter,  "  for  without  experience, 
nothing  can  be  sufficiently  known."  Experience,  however,  is 
twofold:  human  or  philosophical,  which  depends  on  the  external 
senses,  and  inner  illumination  or  divine  inspiration,  through 
which  we  reach  "  knowledge  not  only  of  spiritual  things,  but 


206  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

of  corporeal  matters  and  the  sciences  of  philosophy."  By  means 
of  such  inner  experience  we  may  also  rise,  through  seven  stages, 
to  a  condition  of  ecstasy  or  mystical  knowledge  "  of  spiritual 
things  and  of  all  human  sciences,"  in  which  he  who  has  the 
experience  .snris  much  of  which  man  is  not  permitted  to  speak. 

We  see  ,,  w  far  removed  this  attitude  of  Bacon 's  is  from 
the  moder  v!<  «uception  of  science.  With  much  that  is  modern, 
he  offers  a  ,[, ss  °f  fantastic  ideas  and  superstitions:  astrology 
is  mixed  ^  teod  tronomy,  magic  with  mechanics,  alchemy  with 
chemistry  the  doctrine  of  twofold  experience  opens  the 

door  to  all  ^aus  of  possibilities  harmful  to  the  development  of 
experimental  science.  The  important  thing,  however,  is  that 
Bacon  actually  busied  himself  with  nature  and  that  he  empha- 
sized the  need  of  observation  in  this  field. 

In  his  Augustinian-Platonic  philosophy,  Eoger  followed  the 
teaching  which  was  becoming  a  tradition  of  his  order,  combining 
with  it  Arabian  speculations. 

In  addition  to  its  mystical  and  natural-scientific  tendencies, 
which  did  not  always  accommodate  themselves  to  scholasticism, 
the  thirteenth  century  exhibits  signs  of  opposi- 
tion to  the  entire  church  philosophy.  Under 
the  influence  of  Averroism,  a  number  of  thinkers  distin- 
guish between  philosophical  truth  and  theological  truth, 
holding  that  though  these  may  contradict  one  another,  each 
is  true  in  its  own  sphere.  Some  of  the  heretical  proposi- 
tions developed  in  this  way  were  condemned  in  1240  by 
the  Bishop  of  Paris.  John  of  Brescia  advanced  a  number  of 
heresies  in  1247  and  made  the  plea  that  they  were  offered  not 
as  theological  but  as  philosophical  truths.  Again,  in  1270  and 
in  1277,  the  Bishop  of  Paris  (Etienne  Tempier)  rejected  the 
doctrine  of  twofold  truth  and  condemned  a  long  list  of  theses 
taught  in  the  Faculty  of  Arts  in  the  University  of  Paris,  among 
them  propositions  denying  the  Trinity,  the  resurrection  of  the 
body,  the  suffering  of  the  soul  by  fire,  the  supernatural  nature 
of  ecstasies  and  visions,  creation  in  time,  and  the  need  of  grace 
as  means  to  happiness.  Around  the  same  time  Siger  of  Brabant 
tried  to  show  the  impossibility  of  demonstrating  a  number  of 
propositions,  which  were  "  theologically  "  self-evident,  by  prov- 
ing their  opposites:  for  example,  that  there  is  no  God,  no  cer- 


JOHN  DUNS  SCOTUS  207 

tain  knowledge,  no  moral  responsibility,  no  principle  of  contra- 
diction, and  that  a  heavy  object  not  supported  will  not  fall. 

The  example  of  Raymond  Lully  (1235-1315;  Ars  brevis,  Ars 
magna),  who  opposed  such  heresies,  shows  that  faith  in  the 
capacity  of  reason  to  solve  all  problems  had  not 
disappeared.  In  his  opinion,  reason  not  only 
reaches  no  conclusions  contradicting  the  Christian 
faith,  but  is  able  to  demonstrate  with  absolute  certainty  all  the 
mysteries  of  religion.  He  invented  what  he  calioi  :;'  the  great 
art, ' '  a  method  by  means  of  which  one  might  ' '  Wittidut  the  effort 
of  learning  and  reflection  give  information  concerning  all  ques- 
tions of  knowledge."  The  method  consisted  in  placing  a  series 
of  nine  concepts  and  questions  on  seven  movable  concentric 
disks  and  manipulating  the  disks  in  such  a  way  as  to  produce 
answers.  With  this  barren  mechanical  device  he  succeeded  in 
winning  a  large  and  enthusiastic  following,  which  continued  to 
believe  in  the  "  great  art  "  down  to  the  seventeenth  century. 
(Cf.  Kercher,  Raimund  Lullus.) 

DECLINE  OF  SCHOLASTICISM 

32.   JOHN  DUNS  SCOTUS 

Although  the  Thomistic  philosophy  became  the  official  doc- 
trine of  the  great  Dominican  order  and  gained  many  adherents, 
its  supremacy  did  not  remain  undisputed.  The 
Franciscan  schools,  whose  first  great  teachers, 
Alexander  of  Hales  and  Bonaventura,  although 
not  repudiating  Aristotelianism,  followed  their  Augustinian- 
Platonic  traditions,  opposed  many  of  the  arguments  and  conclu- 
sions of  the  new  system,  and  soon  Christian  scholars  were 
divided  into  two  rival  camps.  The  Franciscans  emphasized  the 
practical,  emotional,  mystical,  personal,  and  devotional  side  of 
religion ;  for  them  the  intellect  was  of  less  importance  than  the 
will,  the  ethical-religious  content  of  Christianity  more  signifi- 
cant than  theoretical  constructions  of  the  faith.  It  was  natural 
that  many  critics  and  opponents  of  the  new  scholasticism  should 
have  sprung  from  this  order.  There  were  a  number  of  possible 


208  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

directions  for  dissenters  to  take:  first,  to  attack  certain  princi- 
ples of  the  dominant  philosophy;  second,  to  reject  the  union 
of  Christianity  with  Aristotelianism  as  unsuccessful;  third,  to 
deny  the  demonstrableness  of  the  faith;  fourth,  to  deny 
the  possibility  of  scholasticism  altogether.  By  adopting  the  first 
three  of  these  positions,  John  Duns  Scotus  paved  the  way  for 
the  acceptance  of  the  fourth  and  thus  assisted  in  the  overthrow 
of  the  scholastic  system. 

Among  those  who  joined  the  opposition  to  Thomism,  we  name  the 
following,  some  of  whom  have  already  been  mentioned  in  other  con- 
nections: Peckham,  Warro,  Kilwardby  (+1278), William  Lamarre  (who 
wrote  Correctorium  fratris  TTioma,  1284),  Richard  of  Middletown 
(+1300),  Henry  of  Ghent  (1217-1293),  Siger  of  Brabant  (+1282), 
Matthew  of  Aquasparta  (+1302),  Peter  John  Olivi  (+1298),  Roger 
Bacon  (+1294),  William  Durand  of  St.  Pourgain  (+1332). 

The  spirit  of  opposition  to  the  Thomistic  system  found  expression 
in  the  thought  of  John  Duns  Scotus  (born  c.  1265),  a  native  of  England 

TV  Q  ,  or  Ireland  and  a  member  of  the  Franciscan  order.  The 
Duns  ocotus  1  -i  ,  0  i  •  i  •  ,i  .  i  TT 

exact  place  and  date  of  his  birth  are  not  known.     He 

studied  at  Oxford,  showing  an  aptitude  for  mathematics,  and  became 
a  teacher  at  Oxford,  Paris,  and  Cologne,  where  he  died  in  1308.  His 
fame  rests  not  so  much  on  his  constructive  ability  as  on  his  dialectical 
acumen  and  skill  as  a  critic,  his  title,  "  the  subtle  doctor,"  being  well 
earned.  He  was  influenced  by  Roger  Bacon  and  Alexander  of  Hales, 
and  regarded  Augustine  and  Anselm  as  the  highest  authorities.  The 
Franciscans  made  him  the  doctor  of  their  order. 

Among  his  works  are:  Opus  Oxoniense  and  Opus  Parisiense  (lecture- 
notes  published  by  his  pupils  at  Paris) ;  Quastiones  quodlibetales. 
Ed.  of  works,  Lyons,  1639 ;  Paris,  26  vols.,  1895. 

Hagenbach,  History  of  Doctrines,  transl. ;  Werner,  J.  Duns  Scotus; 
Seeberg,  Die  Theologie  des  Duns  Scotus;  Kahl,  Die  Lehre  vom  Primat 
des  Willens  bei  Augustinus}  Duns  Scotus  und  Descartes. 

The  thinking  of  Duns  Scotus  is  based  on  the  following  pre- 
suppositions :  The  dogmas  are  beyond  dispute ;  faith  is  the  basis 

of  the  highest  truth;  love  is  the  fundamental 
Rnowled  e  yirtue ;  faith  and  love  are  based  on  the  will ;  they 

are  the  conditions  of  the  vision  of  God ;  hence,  the 
will  is  superior  to  the  intellect.  He  agrees  with  Thomas  that 
there  can  be  no  conflict  between  the  truths  of  faith  and  the 
truths  of  reason ;  and  he,  too,  makes  use  of  philosophical  knowl- 
edge in  support  of  his  own  theories  and  in  criticism  of  those  of 
his  opponents.  In  his  opinion,  also,  reason  is  incapable  of  ex- 


JOHN  DUNS  SCOTUS  209 

plaining  the  mysteries  of  religion  and  should  be  supplemented 
by  faith.  But  Duns  Scotus  goes  farther  than  Aquinas  in  nar- 
rowing the  sphere  of  reason  ;  his  mathematical  studies  had  taught 
him  what  real  demonstration  meant,  and  he  did  not  consider 
propositions  pertaining  to  divine  nature,  divine  purpose, 
divine  prescience  and  predestination,  the  immortality  of  the 
soul,  and  the  like,  susceptible  of  rational  demonstration  or 
the  arguments  for  them  valid.  Here,  he  held,  faith  alone  can 
give  us  certainty;  it  does  not  entirely  exclude  doubt,  but 
it  does  exclude  convincing  doubts.  The  aim  of  theology  is  not 
to  reveal  the  plan  of  salvation;  its  aim  is  practical,  not  theo- 
retical. Without  a  revealed  doctrine,  with  which  theology  con- 
cerns itself,  we  could  not  know  the  purpose  of  God  with  respect 
to  man  ;  no  science  can  tell  us  that.  Theology  has  its  own  prin- 
ciples and  the  highest  object  (God)  ;  hence,  it  takes  precedence 
over  all  the  sciences.  Philosophy,  too,  has  its  own  principles 
and  is  an  independent  science;  it  is,  in  no  way,  subordinate  to 
theology.  In  this  teaching  a  clean  separation  is  made  between 
revealed  theology  and  philosophy,  which,  consistently  adhered 
to,  leads  to  the  emancipation  of  philosophy  from  its  servitude 
to  theology.  Duns  Scotus  made  the  separation  in  the  interest 
of  faith,  but  in  doing  so  he  opened  the  way  for  the  liberation 
of  philosophy.  He  was  so  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  truth  of 
revealed  theology  that  he  feared  no  danger  from  thought; 
reason,  if  properly  employed,  was  bound,  in  his  opinion,  to  be 
in  harmony  with  religion  ;  although  it  could  not  demonstrate  the 
dogmas,  it  could,  at  least,  not  disprove  them.  For  thinkers 
less  firm  of  faith  than  Scotus,  there  were  other  possibilities: 
reason  might  reach  results  conflicting  with  the  dogma,  in  which 
case  they  could  either  accept  or  pretend  to  accept  both  reason 
and  faith  or  abandon  the  dogma.  Every  one  of  these  alterna- 
tives was  chosen. 

In  his  doctrine  of  universals  Duns  Scotus  largely  follows  the 
theory  of  his  time,  which  Thomas,  too,  had  accepted.  Universals 
exist  before  things,  as  forms  in  the  mind  of  God; 


in  things,  as  their  essence  or  general  nature;  and 


after  things,  as  abstract  concepts  in  our  minds. 

Universals  are  not  mere  ideas;  conceptual  knowledge  is  real 

or  has  a  real  object;  otherwise  all  science  would  be  reducod  to 


210  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

mere  logic.  The  principle  that  governs  our  philosopher  is  that 
thought  and  reality  agree,  that  logical  notions  and  distinctions 
are  not  mere  acts  of  thought,  but  have  a  reality  corresponding 
to  them;  it  is  not  necessary,  however,  that  the  correspondence 
between  knowledge  and  objects  be  one  of  identity,  that  the  one 
should  be  the  copy  of  the  other.  We  could  not  think  at  all  if 
we  did  not  begin  with  particular  objects;  yet,  starting  as  we 
do,  we  think  in  universal  terms.  And  we  distinguish  logically 
between  the  genus  and  the  species ;  the  genus  necessarily  implies 
the  species  and  a  species  necessarily  implies  individuals.  Every 
individual  differs  from  other  individuals  of  the  same  species ; 
there  is  an  individual  difference  differentiating  individuals  from 
one  another,  as  there  is  a  specific  difference  differentiating 
species.  We  can  go  no  further,  we  cannot  divide  the  individual : 
every  individual  or  particular  thing  is  an  indivisible  unity, 
it  is  the  ultimate  reality,  the  last  form  to  which  no  other  can 
be  added.  The  individual  difference  is  what  constitutes  this 
particular  individual;  just  as  the  species  is  the  genus  plus  the 
specific  difference,  so  the  individual  is  the  species  plus  the 
individual  difference.  The  universal  nature  or  essence  or  what- 
ness  (quidditas)  is  here  supplemented  by  the  individual  nature, 
by  thisness  (htecceitas,  as  later  followers  expressed  it).  Just 
as  man  proceeds  (logically)  from  animal  by  the  addition 
of  the  specific  difference,  humanity,  to  life,  so  Socrates 
comes  from  man  by  the  addition  to  the  universal  and  specific 
essence,  of  the  individual  character  (Socratitas) .  This  indi- 
vidual difference,  Duns  Scotus  declares,  is  the  principle  of  indi- 
viduation,  and  not  matter,  as  Thomas  had  taught.  The  par- 
ticular thing  is  what  it  is,  not  because  of  the  matter  in  it, — if 
that  were  so,  the  members  of  the  same  species  would  all  be  the 
same, — it  is  what  it  is  because  of  its  individualized  nature,  its 
individuality.  This  difference  is  not  a  thing  (res),  nor  is  it 
merely  a  logical  distinction.  It  is  not  a  separate  entity  added 
to  the  general  characteristics  of  objects,  but  a  quality  or  form 
or  character  going  with  these  general  characteristics, — inherent 
or  immanent  in  them. 

By  analyzing  universals  or  general  concepts  we  finally  reach 
individuals;  but  we  can  also  pass  upward  until  we  come  to 
the  most  universal  concepts,  the  highest  of  which  is  being  (ens), 


JOHN  DUNS  SCOTUS  211 

which  transcends  all  others,  for  we  can  predicate  it  of  everything 
else.  Besides  this,  there  are  other  transcendent  concepts;  they 
are  the  most  general  predicates  which  we  can  apply  to  things: 
unity,  goodness,  truth;  identity  and  diversity;  contingency  and 
necessity;  actuality  and  potentiality,  etc. 

With  Thomas,  Duns  Scotus  holds  that  we  can  infer  the 
existence  of  God  only  from  his  works  or  a  posteriori, — the 
proof  is  potential  in  every  created  spirit,  one 
that  every  reason  can  make  actual, — but  that 
divine  omnipotence  or  creation  out  of  nothing  cannot  be 
proved.  God  is  pure  form  or  energy  or  actuality;  everything 
in  him  is  explicit,  nothing  merely  potential,  otherwise  he 
would  not  be  perfect  and  absolutely  spiritual.  In  God  knowl- 
edge is  a  living  intuition  of  everything  real  and  possible,  an 
explicit  actuality.  From  the  fact  of  the  world  we  infer  a  first 
cause  to  which  it  is  a  necessity  of  thought  to  ascribe  conscious 
knowledge  and  purpose.  We  cannot,  however,  deduce  a  priori 
God's  intelligence  from  his  divine  nature  or  being.  Only  such 
arguments  as  are  based  on  a  posteriori  reasoning  have  rational 
certainty ;  all  other  forms  of  speculation  followed  by  the  school- 
men of  his  day  Duns  rejects.  For  the  same  reasons  we  can 
ascribe  will  to  God ;  he  wills  himself  absolutely,  his  will  is 
infinite :  in  a  single  act  he  can  will  everything  possible  to  him, 
and  he  is  absolutely  free  to  will  or  not  to  will.  This  is  incon- 
ceivable to  human  reason,  but  it  is  a  Christian  conception.  God 
willed  the  world  and  must  have  willed  it  eternally,  otherwise 
there  would  have  been  a  time  in  which  he  did  not  will  it,  which 
would  imply  change  and  imperfection  in  God. 

Everything  else  in  creation  is  a  union  of  form  and  matter, 
actuality  and  potentiality;  all  created  spirits,  the  angels  in- 
cluded, and  the  human  soul,  have  matter  as  well  as  form.  (This 
doctrine  was  one  of  the  points  of  dispute  between  the  Scotists 
and  the  Thomists.)  What  Scotus  means  is  that  potentiality 
implies  materiality  of  some  sort,  that  only  the  actual  or  realized 
spirit  (God)  is  pure.  We  can  conceive  of  matter  (materia 
prima)  as  the  nature  common  to  all  things. 

The  psychology  of  Duns  Scotus,  like  the  rest  of  his  philosophy, 
shows  many  points  of  agreement  with  Thomas's.  Form  and 
matter,  soul  and  body,  however,  constitute  a  substantial  unity 


212  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

in  man.  But  the  soul  itself,  as  we  have  just  stated,  is  a  union 
of  form  and  matter;  and  the  body,  too,  as  the  particular  body 
of  a  particular  soul,  has  its  form.  Duns  also  holds 
that  the  different  powers  of  the  soul  are  distin- 
guished from  the  essence  of  the  soul  and  from  one  another 
formally,  not  really:  there  is  one  soul  with  different  powers,  or 
functions  as  we  should  say.  Another  difference  became  the 
ground  of  controversy  between  Thomists  and  Scotists.  Al- 
though Thomas  recognizes  the  importance  of  the  will  in  the 
economy  of  the  soul,  the  intellect  takes  precedence  in  his  system 
over  the  will;  as  the  most  abstract  and  simple  function,  it  is 
the  higher  faculty,  the  distinguishing  mark  of  the  rational  be- 
ing; it  determines  the  will  with  respect  to  the  highest  good, 
as  we  have  seen.  With  Duns  Scotus  the  will  is  superior  to  the 
intellect.  The  will  would  cease  to  be  will  if  it  were  necessarily 
determined  by  knowledge.  It  has  power  of  assent  (velle)  and 
denial  (nolle).  Imagination  and  intelligence  are  the  inevitable 
preconditions  (causce  sine  quibus  non)  of  acts  of  will,  but  not 
the  determining  causes:  the  will  can  decide  in  favor  of 
temptations  of  sense  or  in  favor  of  the  moral  law,  the  prin- 
ciples of  morality  (syntercsis)  ;  it  is  a  free  will  (liberum 
arbitrium). 

If  this  is  so,  then  the  will  can,  without  the  aid  of  divine  grace, 
act  in  accordance  with  the  demands  of  natural  morality.  Duns 
accepts  this  conclusion,  but  points  out  that  eternal  life  cannot 
be  won  without  faith,  hope,  and  love,  which  are  gifts  of  grace, 
and  which  enable  the  will  to  perform  the  acts  demanded  by  God. 
For  Thomas  eternal  blessedness  consists  in  the  contemplation 
of  God;  for  Scotus  it  is  centered  in  an  act  of  will,  in  that  func- 
tion in  which  we  are  directly  united  with  God,  and  that  is  love, 
which  is  an  act  of  will.  The  vision  of  God  is  the  material  cause, 
or  condition,  of  blessedness.  The  purpose  of  knowledge  is  will; 
will  or  love  is  an  end  in  itself.  Thomas  says,  if  we  had  our 
choice  between  intellect  without  will  and  will  without  intellect, 
we  should  choose  the  former;  Scotus  says  we  should  choose  the 
latter.  The  will  is  the  higher,  nobler,  more  worthy  faculty  of 
the  soul,  it  is  absolutely  free  in  its  action  and  not  determined  by 
the  idea  of  the  good ;  it  chooses  the  good  freely. 

Duns  Scotus  applies  these  thoughts  to  his  notion  of  God.    In 


JOHN  DUNS  SCOTUS  213 

God,  too,  the  will  is  superior  to  the  intellect,  he  is  not  deter- 
mined by  his  reason.  Hence,  we  cannot  know  his 
purposes  and  understand  his  acts  by  rational  de- 
ductions  from  principles.  It  was  not  necessary 
for  him  to  create  a  world,  and  he  could  have  created  a  different 
one  from  this  if  he  had  so  willed.  Nor  is  he  bound  by  the  order 
he  has  established;  he  can  change  it,  at  will,  without  incurring 
guilt.  Whatever  he  wills  and  establishes  is  right  (lex  recta). 
The  universe,  therefore,  is  not  rational  in  the  sense  of  being 
the  necessary  outcome  of  rational  thought;  if  it  were,  we  could 
reason  the  whole  thing  out  ourselves,  think  the  thoughts  of  God 
after  him,  as  it  were. 

Similarly,  the  divine  commandments  which  concern  our  life 
in  the  world  and  our  relations  with  one  another  are  not  neces- 
sary commandments :  God  does  not  command  us  to  act  in  certain 
ways  because  the  rules  are  self-evident  to  reason  or  necessary; 
no,  they  are  necessary  because  God  prescribes  them.  He  could 
have  made  a  society  in  which  murder  and  polygamy  and  the 
violation  of  property  rights  would  not  be  wrong.  We  cannot 
deduce  these  laws  from  an  absolute  moral  law,  we  cannot  derive 
them  from  the  command  of  brotherly  love,  because  they  do  not 
follow  necessarily  from  it,  and,  besides,  the  law  of  love  is  not 
a  law  of  nature;  nor  can  we  prove  that  the  love  of  God  is  a 
law  of  nature.  Duns  does,  however,  regard  certain  laws  of  the 
Decalogue,  the  first  four  commandments,  as  necessary.  In  prin- 
ciple, this,  of  course,  amounts  to  an  abandonment  of  the  entire 
theory  of  the  arbitrary  will,  for  if  God  is  bound  by  necessary 
laws  in  any  case,  he  is  not  absolutely  free.  Scotus  justifies  the 
exception  in  this  way:  That  man  should  have  no  other  gods 
but  God,  that  he  should  not  take  his  name  in  vain,  that  he 
should  worship  him,  are  self-evident  laws ;  they  follow  from  God 's 
love  of  himself,  and  God  must  love  himself ;  they  are  not  merely 
the  commands  of  an  arbitrary  will. 

Since  God  is  omnipotent,  his  decrees  must  be  fulfilled.  Among 
his  irrevocable  decrees  are  the  reward  of  the  good  and  the  pun- 
ishment of  the  wicked.  But  who  in  particular  is  to  be  rewarded, 
who  punished,  is  not  settled.  Here  we  are  dealing  with  par- 
ticular decisions,  not  general  laws,  and,  in  these  cases,  God  may 
change  his  mind,  will  otherwise,  since  he  is  absolutely  free.  The 


214  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

divine  will  is  absolutely  just  because  what  it  wills  is  absolutely 
just. 

Among  the  pupils  of  Duns  Scotus  are  John  de  Bassolis,  Antonius 
Andrese  (+1320),  Francis  de  Mayronis  (+1325),  and  Walter  Burleigh 

(+1337). 

.- 

33.   NOMINALISM 

Thomas  and  Scotus  both  limited  the  sphere  of  provable  truth. 
Doctrines  which  had  been  regarded  as  demonstrable  by  school- 
men before  them,  were  relegated  to  the  domain 
Rational  Of  authority  and  faith.  Scotus  went  even  farther 

Universal  ^an  Thomas  in  this  direction,  as  we  have  seen ;  he 
not  only  circumscribed  the  boundaries  of  phi- 
losophy, but  subjected  the  arguments  which  had  been  offered  in 
support  of  Christian  dogma  and  natural  theology  to  a  searching 
and  destructive  criticism.  We  find  him  exercising  a  strict  cen- 
sorship over  the  intellectual  activities  of  the  schoolmen,  distin- 
guishing carefully  between  what  is  valid  and  what  is  invalid  in 
their  reasonings,  and  keeping  thought  within  what  appeared  to 
him  its  legitimate  bounds.  He  does  not  lack  confidence  in 
human  reason ;  indeed,  he  has  an  abiding  faith  in  it  and  employs 
the  methods  of  logic  in  theology  as  well  as  in  philosophy.  But 
he  clearly  understands  that  the  articles  of  faith,  though  capable 
of  rational  treatment  when  once  we  are  in  possession  of  them 
(through  revelation),  cannot  be  acquired  and  demonstrated  by 
the  unaided  natural  reason. 

This  view  suggested  to  some  thinkers  a  further  and  more 
radical  advance:  they  simply  wiped  the  field  of  provable  theo- 
logical truth  from  the  scholastic  map.  Nothing  in  theology  can 
be  demonstrated,  they  held ;  theology  is  not  a  science  at  all,  the 
dogmas  are  not  only  incapable  of  proof,  they  cannot  even  be 
rendered  intelligible.  Instead  of  endeavoring  to  rationalize 
them,  we  should  obediently  believe  them;  though  there  may  be 
neither  rhyme  nor  reason  in  them,  they  are  true  nevertheless; 
it  is  meritorious  to  believe  what  cannot  be  demonstrated. 

Another  line  of  thought  was  suggested  by  the  realistic  teach- 
ings of  Thomas  and  Scotus.  If  the  particular  object  is,  as 
Scotus  says,  the  "  ultimate  reality,"  if  individuality  consists 


NOMINALISM  215 

not  merely  of  accidental  characteristics,  but  is  the  final  realiza- 
tion of  the  universal,  then  the  particular  object  is  the  true  and 
the  most  real  reality  and,  for  us,  the  only  object  of  scientific 
study.  And  such  a  study  reveals  the  fact,  so  it  was  argued, 
that  general  concepts  or  universals  are  not  real  in  the  scholastic 
sense  at  all,  but  mere  abstractions  of  the  thinking  mind,  mere 
ways  of  expressing  qualities  which  are  common  to  many  par- 
ticular things.  Here  we  have  the  revival  of  a  doctrine  which 
appeared  at  the  threshold  of  scholasticism  (Roscelin),  and  which 
also  marks  its  end:  nominalism. 

Among  those  who  drew  these  conclusions  and  laid  the  foundations 
for  a  new  nominalistic  philosophy  are  the  Franciscan  Peter  Aureoli 
(+1321)  and  the  Dominican  William  Durand  (+1332),  once  a  fol- 
lower of  Thomas.  The  great  leader  of  the  movement,  however,  called 
by  his  followers  the  "  venerable  inceptor "  and  "  invincible  doctor," 
was  the  English  Franciscan,  William  of  Occam,  or  Ockam  (born  about 
1280).  He  was  probably  a  pupil  of  Duns  Scotus  at  Oxford,  and  it 
is  certain  that  he  taught  at  Paris  for  a  few  years.  In  the  conflict  which 
was  raging  in  his  day  between  Church  and  State,  he  sided  with  the 
nationalists  and  enjoyed  the  protection  of  Louis  of  Bavaria,  at  whose 
court  he  died  in  1347. 

Among  his  books  are  four  books  of  Sentences;  Summa  totius  logices; 
Quodlibeta  septem;  Centiloquium  theologicum;  and  works  on  the  Power 
of  the  State  and  the  Church. 

Lowe,  Der  Kampf  zwischen  dem  Realismus  und  Nominalismus,  etc.; 
Schreiber,  Die  politischen  und  religiosen  Doktrinen  unter  Ludwig  dem 
Baier. 

According  to  William  of  Occam,  only  particulars  exist  and 
all  our  knowledge  begins  with  particulars.  Hence  follows  the 
importance  of  what  he  calls  intuition,  or  percep- 
tion, through  which  we  become  aware  of  the  exist- 
ence  of  a  thing  and  which  we  express  in  judgment 
(actus  intellectus).  We  abstract  from  the  particular  objects 
the  qualities  common  to  them,  and  so  form  concepts  or  uni- 
versals. We  have  no  special  faculty  of  the  mind,  or  intellect, 
for  this;  we  naturally  abstract  when  two  similar  objects  are 
presented  to  us.  Such  universals,  however,  exist  merely  as  ideas 
or  thoughts  in  the  mind,  and  are  expressed  in  words  or  conven- 
tional signs:  they  signify  many  particular  similar  things.  Sci- 
ence, therefore,  is  wholly  concerned  with  signs  or  termini  (the 
term  =  the  word  plus  its  meaning) .  This  does  not  mean,  how- 


216  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

ever,  that  our  judgments  are  concerned  with  ideas  only;  they 
are  always  concerned  with  things. 

Universals,  consequently,  have  no  existence  outside  the  mind, 
they  do  not  exist  in  things;  to  assume  it,  as  the  realists  do,  is 
to  make  entities  of  abstractions,  or  to  hypostatize  ideas,  and 
will,  besides,  involve  us  in  all  kinds  of  absurdities.  Entia  non 
multiplicanda  prceter  necessitate™,  ("  Occam's  Razor  ") :  enti- 
ties or  principles  should  not  be  unnecessarily  multiplied,  Wil- 
liam says, — a  thought  already  expressed  by  Peter  Aureoli.  Nor 
do  universals  exist,  in  the  mind  of  God,  as  substances  or  entities ; 
they  are  the  knowledge  which  he  has  of  things;  like  ourselves, 
he  has  knowledge  of  particular  things,  which  alone  have  real 
existence. 

Intuitive  knowledge  includes,  besides  sense-perception,  a 
knowledge  of  our  own  inner  states, — "  intellections,  acts  of  will, 
joy,  sorrow/' — which  is  more  certain  than  sense-perception. 
We  do  not,  however,  gain  a  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  the  soul 
in  this  way,  but  merely  observe  its  activities.  In  addition  to 
such  direct  knowledge  we  have,  also,  what  Occam  calls  "  ab- 
stractive "  knowledge,  by  which  he  means  the  knowledge  we 
acquire  by  deductive  reasoning  or  the  syllogism,  and  which  is 
necessarily  true.  The  principles  forming  the  basis  of  our  argu- 
ments, however,  are  derived  from  experience  by  induction.  Ex- 
perience, then,  is  the  source  of  our  knowledge,  and  all  knowl- 
edge that  transcends  experience  is  a  mere  matter  of  faith.  It 
is  impossible  to  demonstrate  the  existence  of  God  either  onto- 
logically  (Anselm)  or  from  experience.  Even  the  latter  method 
does  not  yield  more  than  probability,  as  all  the  principles  which 
it  employs,  such  as  the  notion  of  the  impossibility  of  an  infinite 
regressus,  are  unproved  assumptions.  Still,  the  existence  of  God 
is  probable  on  rational  grounds,  whereas  the  articles  of  faith 
cannot  be  rendered  intelligible  to  reason.  It  is  impossible  to 
rationalize  the  Christian  dogmas ;  all  we  can  do  is  to  believe 
them.  Hence,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  science  of  theology; 
we  are  wholly  dependent  on  revelation  for  the  certainty  of  the 
truths  of  religion.  Philosophy  and  theology  do  not  play  into 
each  other's  hands. 

God  is  an  omnipotent  being,  bound  by  no  law,  free  in  thought, 
will,  and  action.  He  could  have  established  other  rules  of  mo- 


NOMINALISM  217 

rality  than  those  which  have  been  prescribed:  there  is  nothing 
self-evident  about  them,  they  are  binding  on  us  only  because 
he  has  willed  them.  In  us,  as  in  him,  the  will  is  superior  to  the 
intellect. 

We  find  in  these  views  the  abandonment  of  the  fundamental 
principles  from  which  scholasticism  had  started  out.  The  goal 
had  been  the  rationalization  of  the  Christian  faith, 
the  union  of  philosophy  and  theology.  It  is  now  Nominalism 
declared  that  the  undertaking  is  not  only  presump- 
tuous,  but  futile,  that  scholastic  theology  is  a 
pseudo-science,  that  the  entire  contents  of  faith  are  inaccessible 
to  reason.  The  pious  Franciscan  who  promulgated  these 
thoughts,  and  those  who  accepted  his  teachings  as  a  whole,  held 
all  the  more  obstinately  to  their  faith  in  the  wreck  of  theology, 
but  men  of  different  temperament  refused  to  give  up  the  at- 
tempt to  rationalize  their  universe.  The  battle  between  the 
Thomists  and  Scotists  was  now  transformed  into  one  between 
realists  and  nominalists,  and  was  carried  on  with  extreme  bit- 
terness. The  University  of  Paris  prohibited  the  use  of  William 
of  Occam's  books  in  1339,  and  rejected  nominalism  in  1340;  more 
than  a  century  later  (1473),  all  the  teachers  at  the  University 
were  bound  by  oath  to  teach  realism.  Other  universities,  how- 
ever, were  established,  in  which  the  nominalists  found  ample 
opportunity  to  express  their  opinions:  Prague  in  1348,  Vienna 
in  1365,  Heidelberg  in  1386,  Cologne  in  1388;  and  the  contro- 
versy lasted  over  a  hundred  years. 

Among  the  followers  of  Occam  are:  John  Buridan  (died  c.  1350), 
who  discussed  the  freedom  of  the  will;  Albert  of  Saxony  (-f!340),  who 
wrote  on  logic  and  physics;  Robert  Holcot  (+1349);  Gregory  of 
Rimini  (+1358);  Nicolas  d'Oresme  (+1382);  Marsilius  of  Inghen 
(+1392);  Heinrich  Hembucht  (+1397);  and  Gabriel  Biel  (+1495), 
who  gave  a  systematic  exposition  of  William's  teachings  and  is  called 
the  "  last  of  the  schoolmen." 

Pierre  d'Ailly  (+1425)  regarded  inner  perception  as  more  certain 
than  sense-perception  and  recognized  the  scientific  certainty  of  de- 
ductive reasoning,  based  on  the  principle  of  contradiction,  such  rea- 
soning as  is  employed  in  mathematics.  Robert  Holcot  insisted  on  the 
consistent  development  of  philosophical  thought,  regardless  of  its 
consequences  for  the  dogma.  Nicolas  of  Autrecourt  criticised  the  no- 
tion of  causality  and,  opposing  Aristotle,  accepted  the  atomistic  theory 
and  the  doctrine  of  the  eternal  recurrence  of  worlds.  John  Gerson 
(1363-1429)  based  his  mysticism  on  nominalistic  premises,  and  em- 


218  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

phasized  the  importance  of  revelation,  penitence,  and  faith  as  means 
of  knowledge.  Raymond  of  Sabunde  attempted  to  reconcile  nature 
and  revelation,  or  to  prove  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  by  reference  to 
the  divine  revelation  in  nature. 


34.   MYSTICISM 

We  have  frequently  shown,  in  considering  the  different  tend- 
encies characteristic  of  the  Middle  Ages,  how  mysticism  accom- 
panied scholasticism  as  a  shadow.  Many  minds 
Orthodox  refused  to  be  satisfied  with  a  science  of  God  that 
Mystics™  brought  them  no  nearer  to  God ;  a  theology  meant 
nothing  to  them  that  could  not  give  them  personal 
experiences  in  which  they  might  come  into  communion  with 
divine  being.  The  current  of  theological  thought  in  the  four- 
teenth century  was  altogether  favorable  to  this  religious  move- 
ment :  the  more  impotent  reason  became  to  grasp  and  explain  the 
mysteries  of  religion,  the  greater  emphasis  could  be  laid  on 
feeling  and  will. 

During  the  fourteenth  century  we  find  two  branches  of  mys- 
ticism, a  Latin  mysticism,  which  is  submissive  to  the  Church 
and  follows  the  path  marked  out  by  the  Victorines  and  Bonaven- 
tura ;  and  Germanic  mysticism,  which  assumes  a  more  independ- 
ent attitude  toward  the  doctrines  and  government  of  the  Church. 
To  the  former  branch  belong  Pierre  d'Ailly  (1350-1425),  his 
pupil  John  Gerson  (1363-1429),  and  Raymond  of  Sabunde,  who 
wrote  Theologia  naturalis  sive  liber  creaturarum  (c.  1434).  The 
Germanic  school  includes  Eckhart  or  Eckehart  (1260-1327) ; 
Heinrich  Seuse  or  Suso  (1300-1366)  ;  Johannes  Tauler  (1300- 
1361)  ;  the  anonymous  author  of  the  German  Theology;  and  the 
Dutch  mystics:  Jan  van  Ruysbroek  (1293-1381);  Gerhard  de 
Groot  (  + 1384)  ;  the  Brothers  of  the  Common  Life;  and  Thomas 
a  Kempis  (Thomas  Hamerken  of  Kempen,  1380-1471),  the  cele- 
brated author  of  the  Imitation  of  Christ. 


See  the  works  on  the  Mystics  and  Mysticism  mentioned  on  p.  177; 
also  Pfeiffer,  Deutsche  Mystiker  des  XIV.  Jahrhunderts  (contains  the 
works  of  Eckhart  and  his  predecessors).  Eckhart's  writings  and  ser- 
mons, edited  by  Biittner.  See  A.  Lasson,  Meister  Eckhart;  also  Las- 
son's  excellent  account  of  Eckhart  in  Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  cit.,  §  38. 
For  bibliography  on  German  Mystics  see  Ueberweg-Heinze,  ib. 


MYSTICISM  219 

The  greatest  figure  in  the  whole  movement  is  Meister  Eckhart, 
who  was  a  Dominican  teacher  and  died  in  the  prison  of  his 
order.  Although  the  Thomistic  system  forms  the 
metaphysical  groundwork  of  his  mysticism,  Neo-  Eckhart 
platonic  elements,  which  had  their  source  in  the 
writings  of  the  pseudo-Dionysius,  are  strongly  marked.  In  his 
Latin  writings  Eckhart  presents  his  views  in  more  technical 
form  and  in  connection  with  scholastic  tradition,  while  in  his 
German  sermons  and  tracts  he  gives  a  more  personal,  emo- 
tional, and  popular  treatment.  It  was  through  the  latter,  in 
which  the  ethical  and  psychological  teachings  are  strongly  em- 
phasized, that  he  exercised  his  great  influence;  his  significance 
appears,  as  Lasson  has  said,  when  he  is  appealing  to  the  congre- 
gation and  not  to  the  School.  His  interest,  however,  is  always 
speculative;  he  does  not,  like  most  mystics  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  lay  chief  stress  on  the  mystical  absorption  in  God,  but 
offers  a  rational  interpretation  of  the  whole  Christian  scheme 
of  life.  His  mysticism  is  an  intellectual  mysticism. 

With  Neoplatonism,  Eckhart  regards  Deity  as  an  inconceiv- 
able, indefinable  spiritual  substance,  as  a  limitless  potency  in 
which  all  things  are  united.  The  beginning  and  the  end  is  the 
hidden  darkness  of  the  eternal  Godhead,  unknown  even  to  itself. 
Conceived  in  this  transcendent  sense,  as  the  inexpressible  being, 
God  cannot  reveal  himself;  he  becomes  manifest  only  in  the 
Trinity.  In  an  eternal  process  the  three  persons  flow  out  of, 
and  back  into,  the  divine  nature.  The  Deity  can  become  God 
only  by  thinking  himself,  and  in  order  to  think  himself  he  needs 
the  Trinity  and  the  world.  God  must  know  himself,  act  and 
communicate  himself,  and  will  the  good.  All  this  Eckhart  con- 
ceives as  a  timeless  changeless  process;  he  applies  human  cate- 
gories to  the  Absolute,  and  then  withdraws  them  again  as  un- 
suitable to  a  transcendent  being. 

The  Absolute  is  the  ground  of  the  world;  in  him  dwells  the 
system  of  eternal  ideas,  as  the  work  of  art  in  the  mind  of  the 
artist.  The  world  is  an  eternal  creation.  God  was  not  God  until 
ideas  were;  in  this  sense  all  things  are  in  God,  and  God  in  all 
things.  The  finite  mind  perceives  plurality;  the  timeless  and 
spaceless  mind  sees  all  things  whole:  in  God's  mind  everything 
is  an  eternal  now.  In  order  to  avoid  pantheism,  Eckhart  dis- 


220  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

tinguishes  from  the  unified  ideal  world  a  world  of  creatures, 
a  copy  of  the  other,  a  temporal  world  created  out  of  nothing; 
it  is  the  overflow  of  the  divine  essence,  as  it  were,  and  yet 
contained  in  the  divine  essence;  it  is  in  God  and  yet  not 
identical  with  God,  its  imperfections  do  not  touch  him.  God  can- 
not be  conceived  without  creatures;  he  can  no  more  do  without 
them  than  they  without  him.  In  the  soul  of  man,  however,  he 
finds  his  true  rest. 

Knowledge  is  the  highest  function  of  the  soul ;  and  the  high- 
est stage  of  this  knowledge  is  superrational.  It  is  a  supernatural 
contemplation,  transcending  space  and  time;  seeking  to  become 
one  with  its  object,  God,  it  rises  beyond  the  plural,  the  temporal, 
and  the  external.  The  soul  is  able  to  accomplish  this  by  means 
of  a  divine  ' '  uncreated  spark ;  "its  union  with  the  divine  mind 
is  not  our  own  act,  but  the  act  of  God  in  us.  The  whole  proc- 
ess of  knowledge  is  an  ascent  from  particulars  to  unity ;  it  does 
not  stop  until  it  has  passed  beyond  all  differences  and  has  entered 
"  the  silent  desert  into  which  no  difference  has  ever  penetrated, 
which  is  immovable  and  supreme  over  all  oppositions  and 
divisions. ' ' 

Morality  consists  in  bringing  the  soul  back  to  God.  In  order 
to  realize  the  purpose,  man  must  negate  his  individuality,  which, 
after  all,  is  a  mere  accident,  a  nothing:  "  put  off  the  nothing, 
and  all  creatures  are  one."  "  Whoever  would  see  God  must 
be  dead  to  himself  and  buried  in  God,  in  the  unrevealed  desert 
Godhead,  to  become  again  what  he  was  before  he  was."  "  The 
highest  degree  of  self-estrangement  is  poverty.  He  is  poor  who 
knows  nothing,  desires  nothing,  and  has  nothing.  So  long  as  a 
man  still  has  the  will  to  do  God 's  will  or  craves  God  or  eternity 
or  any  particular  things  whatsoever,  he  is  not  yet  quite  poor, 
and  not  yet  quite  perfect."  "  Act  for  the  sake  of  acting,  love 
for  the  sake  of  loving ;  and  even  if  there  were  no  heaven  or  hell, 
love  God  for  his  goodness."  "  Morality  consists  not  in  doing, 
but  in  being."  Love  is  the  principle  of  all  virtues,  it  strives 
for  the  good,  it  is  nothing  but  God  himself.  Salvation  does  not 
depend  on  outward  forms  of  conduct  like  fasting  and  mortifying 
the  flesh.  Only  the  spirit  in  which  the  deed  is  done  is  good; 
hence  all  virtues  are  one,  there  are  no  degrees  of  virtue.  The 
right  act  will  follow  from  the  right  principle.  So  long  as  you 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  FREE  THOUGHT  221 

can  do  anything  that  is  contrary  to  God's  will,  you  do  not  yet 
possess  the  love  of  God.  It  is  not  to  be  understood  that  a  person 
should  spend  all  his  time  in  contemplation ;  mere  contemplation 
would  be  selfishness.  If  any  one,  in  a  state  of  ecstasy,  knew  of 
a  poor  man  needing  relief,  it  would  be  far  better  for  him  to  put 
an  end  to  his  ecstasy  and  serve  his  needy  brother. 

Through  grace  man  becomes  reunited  with  God.  By  becom- 
ing an  individual  I  give  God  his  goodness  and  am  constantly 
giving  it  to  him,  for  I  am  making  it  possible  for  him  to  commu- 
nicate himself.  God  cannot  know  himself  without  the  soul; 
in  so  far  as  I  am  immanent  in  the  essence  of  Deity,  he  performs 
his  works  through  me;  and  everything  that  is  an  object  of  his 
understanding,  that  am  I.  In  returning  to  God,  I  become  one 
with  God  again;  God  has  become  man  in  order  that  I  may 
become  God. 

The  followers  of  Eckhart  neglected  the  speculative  side  of  mysticism, 
in  which  he  was  particularly  interested,  and  emphasized  the  practical 
religious  side.  The  substance  of  Eckhart's  mysticism  is  reproduced 
in  a  book,  composed  in  Frankfurt  on  the  Main,  and  later  discovered 
by  Luther,  who  published  it  under  the  title  A  German  Theology  (Eine 
deutsche  Theologie).  It  made  a  deep  impression  upon  the  great  re- 
former. 

35.    THE  PROGRESS  OF  FREE  THOUGHT 

It  was  the  mission  of  the  Middle  Ages  to  prepare  the  new 
peoples  for  the  reception  and  continuation  of  classical  Chris- 
tian civilization.    The  task  was  undertaken  by  the 
Church,  who  acted  as  the  spiritual  ward  of  these  Rationalism 
peoples.     But  it  inevitably  came  to  pass  that  the 
child  should  grow  into  manhood  and  that  the  days  of  tutelag* 
should  end.     This  time  had  now  arrived,  and  we  enter  upon  a 
new  phase  of  the  history  of  philosophy.     It  must  not  be  sup- 
posed, however,  that  there  was  a  sudden  break, — such  breaks 
rarely  occur  in  history, — the  new  period  was  simply  the  outcome 
of  a  long  process  of  evolution  and  carried  over  from  the  past 
many  of  the  characteristics  of  that  past.     Scholasticism  itself 
had  been  the  result  of  a  yearning  for  rational  insight,  of  a  desire 
to  understand  and  find  reasons  for  what  it  believed.    It  repre- 
sented the  same  spirit  of  reflection  and  inquiry  which  had  led 


222  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

to  the  construction  of  great  metaphysical  systems  in  the  golden 
age  of  Greek  thought.  It  is  true,  the  goal  of  its  search  was 
fixed  by  faith :  philosophy  served  as  its  handmaiden ;  but  within 
its  circumscribed  bounds  human  reason  had  a  fairly  free  swing. 
The  attitude  of  the  Middle  Ages  toward  rational  knowledge  is 
by  no  means  the  same  as  that  of  the  early  Christians.  Primitive 
Christianity  did  not  glorify  the  intellectual  achievements  of  man 
or  expect  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  through  the  portals  of 
speculative  reason.  "  Where  is  the  wise?  where  is  the  scribe? 
where  is  the  disputer  of  this  world?  "  St.  Paul  asks,  "  hath 
not  God  made  foolish  the  wisdom  of  this  world  ?  For  after  that 
in  the  wisdom  of  God,  the  world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God,  it 
pleased  God  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching  to  save  them  that 
believe."  This  is  not  the  spirit  of  the  scholastic  Middle  Ages. 
The  Fathers  and  the  doctors  of  the  Church  are  eager  to  under- 
stand, they  are  bent  on  rationalizing  their  faith;  they  desire 
to  know  God  by  wisdom.  They  did  not  study  the  world  as 
we  study  it,  they  did  not  pursue  truth  in  the  independent  man- 
ner of  the  Greeks,  but  that  was  because  they  were  so  thoroughly 
convinced  of  the  absolute  truth  of  their  premises,  the  doctrines 
of  the  faith.  These  were  their  facts,  with  these  they  whetted 
their  intellects,  these  they  sought  to  weld  into  a  system.  Their 
interest  lay  in  a  transcendent  world  and  in  the  relation  of  our 
earthly  life  to  the  spiritual  kingdom ;  the  occurrences  of  nature 
left  them  cold  except  in  so  far  as  they  saw  in  them  the  workings 
of  the  divine  plan.  What  cared  they  for  petty  details  so  long 
as  they  understood  the  really  valuable  transcendent  truths? 
The  Church  did  not  oppose  scientific  studies  as  such ;  it  was  con- 
vinced that  no  facts  could  be  discovered  which  would  not  prove, 
the  great  and  fundamental  truths,  and  so  it  brushed  them  aside. 

It  must  also  be  remembered  that  the  spirit  of  independence; 
and  opposition  to  authority  was  never  entirely  extinguished, 

though  it  lay  smoldering  for  a  long  time.  It  mani- 
Nationalism  fested  itself  in  the  political  sphere  in  the  struggle:? 

of  Church  and  State,  which  began  early  and  wen; 
carried  on  with  fierceness  on  both  sides.  The  victory  passed 
from  popes  to  emperors  and  kings  and  back  again.  The  reign 
of  Gregory  VII  (1077)  marks  a  triumph  for  the  Church:  Henry 
IV  of  Germany  goes  to  Canossa  to  do  penance  and  to  pay  homagj 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  FREE  THOUGHT  223 

to  the  Pope.  The  power  of  the  Church  reached  its  climax  dur- 
ing the  papacy  of  Innocent  III  (1198-1216)  ;  but  from  that 
time  on  it  declined.  Philip  IV  of  France  (1285-1314)  met  with 
success  in  his  war  with  Pope  Boniface  VIII  and  caused  the 
removal  of  the  Papal  See  to  Avignon,  where  it  remained  from 
1309  to  1376.  It  was  during  this  period  that  nominalism  and 
German  mysticism,  two  independent  movements,  made  such 
headway.  The  great  schism  in  the  Papacy  lasted  from  1378  to 
1415;  during  these  years  two  popes  ruled;  at  one  time  three. 
The  Babylonian  captivity  at  Avignon  and  the  schism  were  ter- 
rible catastrophes  to  the  Church;  how  could  she  claim  either 
temporal  or  spiritual  supremacy  when  she  was  divided  against 
herself?  The  unfortunate  situation  suggested  to  the  University 
of  Paris  the  idea  of  a  national  Church;  if  the  world  could  go 
on  with  two  popes,  why  might  not  each  nation  have  its  own 
primate?  Objection  was  also  raised  to  the  absolutism  of  the 
Pope  within  the  Church  itself,  and  the  demand  made  that  since 
the  Church  is  superior  to  the  Pope,  he  ought  to  be  subordinate 
to  a  Council. 

Here  we  have  the  struggle  between  nationalism  and  ecclesias- 
ticism  and  between  democracy  and  absolutism.  Back  in  the 
twelfth  century  Arnold  of  Brescia  had  opposed  the  temporal 
power  of  the  Church  and  established  a  republic  in  Rome,  but 
it  was  short-lived  and  Arnold  died  on  the  scaffold  (1155).  At 
first  the  church  writers  side  with  the  Church,  but  gradually 
opposition  arises  within  her  ranks  against  the  temporal  power 
of  the  Roman  See. 


Among  those  favoring  Church  supremacy  were  nearly  all  the  old 
orthodox  schoolmen,  and,  during  the  fourteenth  century,  Augustinus 
Triumphus  (+1328)  and  Alvarus  Pelagius  (+1352).  Dante  (12G5- 
1321),  in  his  De  monarchia,  favors  the  supremacy  of  the  Emperor  in 
worldly  affairs,  and  of  the  Pope  in  spiritual  affairs.  Joachim  of 
Floris,  William  of  Occam  (+1347),  Wyclif  (1327-1384),  and  Mar- 
silius  of  Padua  (+1343),  all  oppose  the  temporal  power  of  the  Church. 
Marsilius  teaches  an  imperialistic  theory  of  the  State,  the  doctrine 
of  popular  sovereignty,  and  the  contract  theory. 

Lecky,  History  of  the  Rise  of  Rationalism  in  Europe,  chap,  v;  E. 
Jenks,  Law  and  Politics  in  the  Middle  Ages;  Gierke,  Political  Theories 
of  the  Middle  Age,  transl.  by  Maitland;  Bryce,  Holy  Roman  Empire} 
Robertson,  Regnum  Dei;  Troeltsch,  Die  Soziallehren  der  christlichen 
Kirchen. 


224  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

It  must  also  be  remembered  that  the  heretical  tendencies 
which  began  with  the  attempt  to  make  a  platform  for  Chris- 
tianity never  disappeared.  We  have  had  occasion, 
Tendencies  *n  Bracing  the  evolution  of  the  dogma,  to  speak 
of  numerous  sects  whose  teachings  were  antagonis- 
tic to  orthodox  doctrines.  Marcion  (c.  130),  an  extreme  adher- 
ent of  the  Pauline  faction  of  the  new  religion,  who  condemned 
everything  Jewish  and  Petrinic,  became  the  father  of  a  move- 
ment that  continued  in  some  form  or  other  for  centuries.  We 
find  the  descendants  of  the  Marcionites,  the  Paulicians,  in 
Armenia  and  Asia  Minor  from  the  fifth  century  onwards;  the 
Bogomils  in  Bulgaria  from  the  tenth  on.  In  the  eleventh  cen- 
tury, a  sect  called  Cathars  or  Cathari,  with  similar  teachings, 
appeared  in  Southern  France.  For  centuries  the  Church  waged 
a  relentless  war  against  the  Albigenses,  as  this  sect  came  to  be 
named,  and  with  the  aid  of  the  terrible  Inquisition  succeeded 
in  destroying  it,  root  and  branch.  In  the  twelfth  century  a 
similar  sect  arose  in  Northern  Italy,  the  Waldenses,  founded  by 
Peter  Waldo  in  1170,  which,  under  the  name  of  the  Vaudois, 
is  in  existence  to-day.  Waldo  emphasized  the  doctrine  of  justi- 
fication by  faith,  preached  repentance,  favored  sermons  rather 
than  ritual,  opposed  the  confessional,  dispensations,  relics,  wor- 
ship of  saints,  and  transubstantiation.  He  made  the  Bible  the 
criterion  of  faith,  and  had  the  New  Testament  translated  for 
general  study. 

In  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  we  have  the  great 
reform  movements  inaugurated  by  Wyclif  (1327-1384)  in  Eng- 
land and  continued  by  John  Huss  (1369-1415)  in  Bohemia. 
Wyclif  opposed  the  church  system,  saint-worship,  celibacy  of 
the  clergy,  monasticism,  the  mass,  transubstantiation,  hier- 
archical government,  the  primacy  of  the  Pope ;  he  demanded  a 
return  to  the  original  congregational  organization  and  the  inde- 
pendence of  Church  and  State.  With  the  desire  for  religious 
reform  came  a  desire  for  political  and  social  reforms:  Wat 
Tyler  in  England  and  Thomas  Miinzer  in  Germany  become  the 
leaders  of  social  revolution. 

Signs  of  a  similar  independence  of  thought  are  found  in 
those  who  refuse  to  accept  the  orthodox  philosophy.  We  have 
already  spoken  of  the  pantheism  of  Scotus  Erigena,  which  was 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  FREE  THOUGHT  225 

anathema  to  the  Church,  and  of  the  pantheists  Joachim  of  Floris, 
Simon  of  Tournay,  Amalric  of  Bennes,  and  David  of  Dinant, 
who  exhibited  a  remarkable  freedom  in  their  think- 
ing. The  pious  mystics  of  St.  Victor  shake  the 
very  foundations  of  scholasticism  in  denying 
the  possibility  of  a  union  of  reason  and  faith,  science  and 
religion.  Even  among  the  regular  schoolmen  we  find  liberal 
tendencies  in  the  twelfth  century.  The  fact  is  when  men  begin 
to  think,  they  are  apt,  in  spite  of  their  orthodoxy,  to  run  coun- 
ter to  the  prescribed  doctrine  now  and  then.  Anselm,  whose 
sole  aim  was  to  rationalize  the  faith,  comes  dangerously  near, 
at  times,  to  contradicting  the  dogmas  of  the  Church,  as  Augus- 
tine and  Scotus  Erigena  had  done  before  him.  Roscelin's  re- 
flections on  universals  landed  him  in  an  out-and-out  heresy.  The 
entire  life  of  Abelard  impresses  one  as  a  conflict  between  intel- 
lectual integrity  and  loyalty  to  the  Church.  Sparks  of  the 
spirit  of  independence  are  visible  in  the  writings  of  Bernard 
of  Chartres,  William  of  Conches,  Gilbert  of  Poiree,  and  John 
of  Salisbury,  all  bishops  of  the  Church;  and  the  discussions  in 
Peter  the  Lombard's  Summa  betray  an  intellectual  curiosity 
which  augured  well  for  the  future  of  thought.  Many  of  the 
questions  which  the  thinkers  of  the  age  considered  with  all  seri- 
ousness, seem  barren  and  foolish  to  us,  but  that  is  because  our 
outlook  on  life  has  changed ;  considered  in  connection  with  their 
medieval  religious  background,  they  represent  the  workings  of 
the  inquiring  mind. 

The  thirteenth  century  turns  from  Platonic  realism  to  Aris- 
totelian realism.  The  interest  which  the  age  showed  in  Aristotle 
was  itself  a  sign  of  freedom  of  thought.  Aristotle  was  a  pagan, 
and,  besides,  the  knowledge  of  his  writings  had  come  to  the 
Western  world  from  the  "  infidel  "  Arabians.  The  Church, 
quite  naturally,  at  first  condemned  his  philosophy,  but  soon 
adapted  it  to  its  needs,  and  made  it  the  official  ecclesiastical 
system.  The  new  world-view  helped  to  strengthen  the  bonds  of 
union  between  reason  and  faith,  which  were  being  loosened  at 
the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century.  In  this  respect,  it 
is  true,  Aristotelianism  served  as  an  antidote  to  the  liberal 
tendencies  of  the  age  and  stemmed  the  tide  of  free  thought.  At 
the  same  time,  it  contained  within  itself  elements  that  proved 


226  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

dangerous  to  scholasticism  and  encouraged  the  spirit  of  inde- 
pendence. By  placing  a  heathen  philosopher  on  so  high  a 
pedestal,  the  Church  widened  the  intellectual  horizon  of  men 
and  increased  their  respect  for  the  achievements  of  antiquity. 
The  Aristotelian  system  also  helped  to  arouse  an  interest  in  the 
study  of  nature,  and  this  in  time  proved  to  be  a  great  stimulus 
to  free  inquiry.  It  formed  the  bridge  from  Platonic  realism 
to  nominalism  and  thus  to  modern  science.  Aristotle's  phi- 
losophy was  naturalistic,  Christian  thought  supernaturalistic ; 
and  although  Thomas  Aquinas  attempted  to  supplement  Aris- 
totle's world- view  by  the  introduction  of  supernaturalism,  the 
contradiction  between  the  two  lines  of  thought  was  there.  And 
when  the  contradiction  was  brought  out,  as  it  had  to  be  brought 
out  sooner  or  later,  the  great  respect  in  which  Aristotle  had 
come  to  be  held  made  his  heterodox  theories  palatable. 

Aristotle's  philosophy,  therefore,  was  a  Greek  gift  after  all, 
and  led  to  the  dissolution  of  scholasticism.  St.  Thomas  builds 
on  Aristotle  and  constructs  a  system  that  is  satisfactory  to  the 
Church.  But  Duns  Scotus,  too,  who  was  not  made  a  saint, 
believes  that  he  is  carrying  out  the  Aristotelian  thought  in 
opposing  the  rationalistic,  realistic,  and  deterministic  concep- 
tions of  Thomas.  By  emphasizing  the  reality  of  particulars,  as 
he  did,  he  tacitly  assumed  the  importance  of  the  particular 
human  being  and  the  worth  of  the  individual  conscience.  His 
doctrines  also  paved  the  way  for  empiricism  and  nominalism. 
If  God  is  not  determined  by  his  reason  to  create  the  world, 
then  the  laws  of  nature  are  not  necessary,  and  cannot  be  deduced 
by  reason  from  the  reason  of  God.  Things  are  what  they  are 
because  God  made  them  so ;  they  might  have  been  otherwise  and 
may  change  whenever  God  so  wills  it.  Hence,  in  order  to  know 
what  nature  is  and  how  nature  acts,  we  must  observe  nature; 
experience  is  the  source  of  our  knowledge.  Moreover,  if  par- 
ticulars are  the  ultimate  realities,  how  else  can  we  know  them 
except  empirically? 

William  of  Occam  boldly  developed  certain  implications  of 
the  Scotian  teaching  and  attacked  the  very  foundations  of 
scholastic  thought.  If  universals  are  not  real,  they  are  mere 
words ;  if  theology  is  a  barren  science,  let  the  Church  cast  it 
off.  Faith  should  take  the  place  of  reason.  Let  us  dissolve  the 


THE  NEW  ENLIGHTENMENT  227 

Church's  alliance  with  reason  and  the  world,  and  return  to  the 
simple  belief  and  the  democratic  organization  of  the  spiritual 
Church  of  Apostolic  times. 

Mysticism  had  always  shown  a  distaste  for  ratio,  al  theology. 
But  in  spite  of  their  anti-rationalistic  leanings,  the  mystics  of 
the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries  remained  true  to  the  estab- 
lished doctrines  of  the  Church.  In  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
centuries,  however,  they  became  pantheistic  and  nominalistic, 
as  we  have  seen,  and  their  teachings,  though  offered  in  the  inter- 
ests of  a  spiritual  religion,  contributed  greatly  to  weaken  the 
scholastic  system  and  the  influence  of  the  visible  Church. 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

36.    THE  NEW  ENLIGHTENMENT 

The  tendencies  which  we  have  outlined, — the  development  of 
nationalism,  the  heretical  currents  of  thought,  mysticism,  the 
antagonism  to  the  scholastic  alliance  of  theology 
and  philosophy,— are  the  forerunners  of  two  great 
reform  movements  called  the  Renaissance  and  the 
Reformation.  The  times  were  beginning  to  find  fault  with  the 
old  traditions,  the  old  language  and  literature,  the  old  art,  the 
old  theological  systems,  the  old  political  relations  of  Church  and 
State,  the  old  authoritative  religion.  The  spirit  of  reflection 
and  criticism,  which  had  been  silently  quickening,  broke  out  in 
open  revolt  against  authority  and  tradition:  in  the  revolt  of 
nation  against  Church,  of  reason  against  prescribed  truth,  of 
the  individual  against  the  compulsion  of  ecclesiastical  organi- 
zation. The  conflict  between  Church  and  State  had  been  settled 
in  favor  of  the  State,  but  within  both  Church  and  State  them- 
selves the  desire  for  political,  economic,  religious,  and  intellec- 
tual liberty  was  forming.  It  found  partial  realization  in  the 
Renaissance  and  Reformation;  later  on  it  expressed  itself  in 
modern  philosophy  and  in  all  the  influences  which  are  still  at 
work  in  the  struggle  for  human  liberty  and  enlightenment. 

Slowly  but  surely  the  authority  of  the  Church  is  weakened  in 
the  field  of  the  mind,  and  the  individual  begins  to  assert  his 
intellectual  independence.  Reason  displaces  authority  in  phi- 


228  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

losophy,  and  philosophy  cuts  loose  from  guardianship.  The 
notion  begins  to  prevail  that  truth  is  something  to  be  achieved, 
something  to  be  won  by  free  and  impartial  inquiry,  not  some- 
thing to  be  decreed  by  authority.  The  interest  of  medieval 
thinkers  was  largely  centered  on  supernatural  things:  theology 
was  the  crown  of  the  sciences.  The  new  age  turns  its  gaze  from 
heaven  to  earth,  and  natural  science  gradually  pushes  its  way 
to  the  front.  The  same  independent  spirit  manifests  itself  in 
religion.  The  individual  throws  off  the  fetters  of  the  Church 
and  appeals  to  the  Bible  and  conscience  as  his  standards.  He 
refuses  to  accept  a  human  intermediary  between  himself  and  his 
God,  and  longs  for  a  personal  communion  with  the  object  of 
his  faith. 

f  Consult  the  general  histories  of  philosophy  and  special  works  men- 
tioned on  pp.  4,  f. ;  also  the  bibliography  on  the  history  of  modern 
philosophy  given  on  p.  252;  and  the  following:  Fischer,  History  of 
Modern  Philosophy,  vol.  I,  Introduction,  chaps,  v,  vi;  Paulsen, 
System  of  Ethics,  pp.  126,  ff. ;  W.  H.  Hudson,  The  Story  of  the  Renais- 
sance; Cambridge  Modern  History,  vol.  I;  Graves,  History  of  Educa- 
tion during  the  Middle  Ages,  Part  II,  and  Petrus  Ramus;  Munroe, 
History  of  Education,  chap,  vi;  Lecky,  The  History  of  the  Rise  of  Ra- 
tionalism in  Europe;  A.  D.  White,  History  of  the  Warfare  of  Science 
with  Theology;  Symonds,  The  Renaissance  in  Italy,  7  vols. ;  Burck- 
hardt,  The  Culture  of  the  Renaissance,  2  vols.,  transl.  by  Middleman ; 
Voigt,  Die  Wiederbelebung  des  klassischen  Altertums,  2  vols.;  Carriere, 
Die  Weltanschauung  der  Reformationszeit;  Hagen,  Deutschlands  lit- 
terarische  und  religiose  Verhdltnisse  im  Reformationszeitalter;  Peschl, 
Geschichte  des  Zeitalters  der  Entdeckungen;  Troeltsch,  Soziallehren  der 
christlichen  Kirchen. 

Bibliographies  in  Ueberweg-Heinze,  Part  III,  vol.  I,  §§  2,  ff. ; 
Falckenberg,  History  of  Modern  Philosophy,  pp.  15-63;  and  Cam- 
bridge Modern  History,  vol.  I. 

When  the  age  turned  its  back  upon  the  past  and  yearned  for 

new  things,  two  ways  lay  open  to  it:  it  could  either  create  new 

forms  of  life  and  art  and  thought  or  revert  to 

antiquity  for  its  models.     The  latter  course  was 

chosen  first.     Accustomed   as  the  medieval  mind  had  been  to 

authority  and  tradition,  it  was  unable   at  once  to  strike   out 

new  paths  for  itself.    The  intellectual  reformers  turn  to  classical 

antiquity  for  inspiration;  the  culture  of  Greece  and  Eome  is 

revived  or  reborn  (Renaissance)   and  humanity  is  rediscovered 

(Humanism). 


NEW  PHILOSOPHIES  229 

With  the  fifteenth  century  comes  the  awakening  of  the  West- 
ern world  to  an  appreciation  of  the  long  neglected  heritage  of 
classical  civilization.  A  hundred  years  before,  the  Italian  poets 
Dante  (1265-1321),  Boccaccio  (+1375),  and  Petrarch  (+1374) 
had  cultivated  a  taste  for  the  classics,  and  had  used  the  mother- 
tongue  as  a  literary  instrument.  Laurentius  Valla  (1406-1457) 
now  purifies  the  barbarous  Church  Latin  and  makes  Cicero  and 
Quintilian  the  models  for  Latin  style.  Manuel  Chrysoloras 
(+1415)  is  the  first  Greek  to  become  a  public  teacher  of  the 
Greek  language  and  literature  in  Italy ;  and  his  pupil  Leonardus 
Aretinus  (+1444),  the  translator  of  Platonic  and  Aristotelian 
works,  arouses  a  widespread  interest  in  Greek  studies  among 
the  Italians.  In  1438  and,  later,  after  the  fall  of  Constantinople 
(1453),  Greek  scholars  flock  to  Italy,  and  the  treasures  of  art 
and  literature  which  had  been  preserved,  enjoyed,  and  studied 
in  the  Eastern  Empire  while  the  Occident  was  steeped  in 
11  Gothic  barbarism  "  are  revealed  to  the  willing  pupils  in  the 
West.  Humanism  finds  its  way  into  the  ecclesiastical  and  secu- 
lar courts,  and  spreads  until  even '  the  universities  are  touched 
by  its  influence.  The  Popes  themselves  are  affected  by  the  new 
culture;  Nicolas  V  (1447-1495)  founds  the  Vatican  Library, 
Julius  II  (1503-1513)  rebuilds  the  Church  of  St.  Peter,  and  it 
is  said  of  Leo  X  (1513-1521)  that  he  found  more  pleasure  in 
the  study  of  the  classics  than  in  Christian  theology.  Interest 
is  aroused  in  human  achievements;  man  is  glorified,  human 
genius  exalted,  and  human  talents  no  longer  counted  as  insig- 
nificant or  despicable,  hence  the  honors  showered  upon  the  poets, 
orators,  and  historians  of  the  times.  Art  and  architecture  are 
humanized,  as  it  were :  medieval  art,  expressive  of  the  spirit  of 
world-denial,  suffering,  and  death,  gives  way  to  the  art  of  the 
Renaissance,  which  is  an  expression  of  the  natural  joy  of  life. 

37.   NEW  PHILOSOPHIES 

Several  features  are  noticeable  in  the  philosophy  of  the  Re- 
naissance. At  first  the  systems  of  the  ancient  Greeks  are  studied 
and  imitated.  The  entire  scholastic  method  is  . 

attacked  as   barren   word-wisdom  and  dialectical 
hair-splitting,  and  efforts  are  made  to  introduce  a  new  logic. 
Here  and  there  original  theories  are  offered,  but  they  are  gen- 


230  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

erally  crude  and  inevitably  relapse  into  the  old  traditional  way 
of  looking  at  things.  The  scholastic  elements  are,  however, 
gradually  sloughed  off;  the  ancient  patterns  are  no  longer 
slavishly  followed,  thought  becomes  more  independent  and  origi- 
nal, until,  at  last,  we  reach  the  phase  of  development  which  is 
called  modern  philosophy. 

The  first  important  task  to  be  undertaken  was  the  study  of  the  ancient 
philosophers.  A  Greek  named  Pletho  came  to  Italy  in  1438  to  par- 
ticipate in  a  council  called  together  at  Florence  to  discuss  the  union  of 
the  Eastern  and  Western  Churches.  Persuaded  by  Cosmo  di  Medici 
to  remain  in  Italy,  he  established  the  Florentine  Academy  (1440)  for 
the  purpose  of  teaching  and  defending  the  Platonic  philosophy.  The 
entire  body  of  Plato's  works  now  for  the  first  time  became  accessible 
to  Western  scholars,  and  reformers  were  enabled  to  place  a  rival  in  the 
field  against  the  church  philosopher  Aristotle.  But  they  interpreted 
the  great  idealistic  system,  after  the  fashion  of  the  entire  East,  as 
Neoplatonism.  Pletho's  Hellenism  was  so  intense  that  he  sought  to 
revive  the  old  Greek  cult  in  an  allegorized  Neoplatonic  form.  He 
wrote  a  work  comparing  the  doctrines  of  Plato  and  Aristotle. 

Pletho  is  followed  in  the  school  by  Bessarion  (author  of  a  work 
Against  the  Calumniators  of  Plato,  1469),  who  defends  Plato  against 
his  Aristotelian  compatriots,  Gennadius,  Theodorus  Gaza,  Georgius  of 
Trebizond.  His  pupil  Marsilius  Ficinus  (1433-1499),  a  Florentine, 
who  regards  Plato's  philosophy  as  the  quintessence  of  wrisdom  and  the 
key  to  Christianity,  succeeds  him.  Marsilius  edits  and  translates 
Plato  and  the  Neoplatonists,  and  writes  commentaries  on  them.  All 
these  thinkers  are  opposed  to  the  church  system  of  philosophy. 

The  only  original  system  of  thought  offered  in  the  fifteenth 
century,  one  that  does  not  follow  the  beaten  track  of  scholasti- 
cism, is  that  of  Nicolas  of  Cusa  (Krebs  of  Kues  or 

ofiCCusa  Cusa'   1401-1464)-     Nicolas  was  educated  by  the 

mystical  Brothers  of  the  Common  Life  at  Deventer, 
studied  mathematics,  jurisprudence,  and  theology  at  Heidelberg 
and  Padua,  and  became  a  Bishop  and  Cardinal  of  the  Church. 
Like  many  philosophies  of  the  Renaissance  and  even  an  earlier 
period,  the  Cusan's  world- view  is  a  mixture  of  medievalism  and 
modern  thought.  It  shows  the  influence  of  German  mysticism, 
Neoplatonism,  and  the  Pythagorean  number-theory,  and  oscil- 
lates between  pantheism  and  the  Christian  dualistic  conception 
of  God  and  the  world. 

De  docta  ignorantia,  1440;  De  conjecturis,  1440;  De  pace  sen  con- 
cordantia  fidei,  1453  (a  remarkable  example  of  the  spirit  of  religious 


NEW  PHILOSOPHIES  231 

tolerance.  See  G.  L.  Burr,  "  Anent  the  Middle  Ages,"  American  His- 
torical Beview,  vol.  XVIII,  No.  4).  Bibliography  in  Falckenberg, 
History  of  Modern  Philosophy,  and  in  Uebenveg-Heinze,  op.  cit.,  Part 
III,  vol.  I,  §  7. 

Nicolas  shares  the  nominalistic  view  of  the  incompetence  of 
reason  as  a  source  of  knowledge  of  God.  He  holds,  however, 
that  we  can  have  an  immediate  intuition  of  him,  a  '  *  vision  with- 
out comprehension,"  as  the  mystics  taught,  and  that  this  may 
be  reached  by  ecstasy.  It  is  a  state  of  learned  ignorance  (docta 
ignorantia),  in  which  discursive  thought  is  transcended.  God 
is  the  infinite  substance  of  all  that  is  real  in  things;  in  him 
essence  and  existence,  potentiality  and  reality  are  one ;  he  is  pure 
and  infinite  actuality,  absolute  potentiality,  absolute  knowledge, 
absolute  will,  absolute  goodness.  In  him  all  contradictions  are 
comprehended;  he  is  the  coincidence  of  opposites,  and  cannot, 
therefore,  be  grasped  by  conceptual  thinking.  Indeed,  nega- 
tions alone  are  true  and  affirmations  inadequate  in  theology. 
Nicolas  is  unwilling  to  qualify  God  in  any  way:  the  infinite 
God  can  be  attained  only  by  one  who  knows  that  he  is  ignorant 
of  him. 

The  world  is  the  explication  of  God,  unity  differentiated  into 
plurality;  it  is  the  copy  of  God,  an  animated  whole,  in  every 
part  of  which  he  is  present  in  the  fullness  of  his  power.  He 
is  the  maximum  in  that  he  is  unlimited  and  embraces  all  things ; 
he  is  the  minimum  in  so  far  as  he  is  present  in  every  particular 
thing.  In  this  sense,  "  each  actual  thing  is  a  contraction  of 
all  things,"  God  being  potential  in  it.  All  this  is  thorough- 
going pantheism.  But  left  as  it  stands,  it  would  be  pure  heresy, 
and  Nicolas  tries  to  square  his  theory  with  orthodox  dualism 
by  conceiving  the  world  as  different  from  God:  the  essence  of 
things  is  not  the  same  as  the  divine  essence;  they  are  finite 
and  do  not  completely  realize  the  divine  ideas;  they  are  con- 
tingent and  do  not  follow  necessarily  from  God's  being. 

Other  thinkers  were  becoming   acquainted   with   the   real    Aristotle 
and  beginning  to  note  the  differences  between  him  and  the  scholastio 
conception  of  him,  which  had  been  influenced  by  the    The  True 
Neoplatonic    interpretations    of    the    Arabians.      The   Aristotle 
Aristotelians    split    into    two    parties,    some    following 
Averroes,  others  Alexander  of  Aphrodisias,  in  the  interpretation  of  the 
Peripatetic  system.     In  a  tactful  way  they  antagonized  the  Aristotle 


232  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

of  the  Church.  Thus,  Pietro  Pomponazzi  (1462-1524),  a  professor  at 
Padua,  in  his  book  De  immortalitate  animce,  1516,  declares  that  Aris- 
totle did  not  teach  personal  immortality,  that  such  a  thing  is  physically 
impossible  and  morally  unnecessary. 

Other  works  of  Pomponazzi:  On  Magic;  On  Fate,  Free  Will,  etc. 
See  Douglas,  Psychology  and  Philosophy  of  Pomponazzi. 

A  school  of  Averroists  existed  in  Northern  Italy  (Padua),  largely 
composed  of  physicians  and  natural  scientists,  who  interpreted  Aris- 
totle in  the  Averroistic  sense,  accepting  the  doctrine  of  one  universal 
intellect  and  denying  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  When  the  new 
Aristotle  became  known,  however,  the  school  changed  its  position,  and 
followed  the  interpretation  of  Alexander  of  Aphrodisias. 

Other  representatives  of  Aristotelianism  were  Porta  (+1555),  Scaliger 
(1484-1558),  Cremonini  (1552-1631),  and  Rudolph  Agricola. 

An  attempt  is  also  made  to  reconcile  Platonism  and  Aristotelianism; 
from  the  Platonic  side  by  John  Pico  of  Mirandola,  and  from  the 
Aristotelian  side  by  Andreas  Ca3salpinus  (1519-1603).  Otker  thinkers 
of  the  times  seek  to  revive  Epicureanism  and  Stoicism;  and  the  latter 
in  its  Roman  form  became  quite  popular  with  the  educated  classes. 

The  Spaniard  Ludovieo  Vives  (1492-1540)  opposes   not  only 
the  scholastic  system,  but  its  entire  method  of  substituting  au- 
thority for  experience.     The  nominalistic  philoso- 
Reform  of        p^y   }e(j  ^Q  way  ^0  such  a  view.     He  severely 
Science  and  ... 

Philosophy       criticises    scholastic    sophistry    and    the    different 

sciences  in  his  dialogue  Sapiens  and  in  his  main 
work,  De  disciplinis.  Instead  of  confining  ourselves  to  the  study 
of  Aristotle  in  natural  science,  he  thinks  we  should  make  inde- 
pendent investigations  of  nature ;  instead  of  indulging  in  meta- 
physical speculations,  we  should  observe  the  phenomena  them- 
selves,— experiment  and  reflect  on  them.  He  also  recommends 
an  empirical  study  of  the  soul;  we  ought  to  inquire  not  into 
the  essence  of  the  soul,  but  attempt  to  discover  how  it  acts. 
Vives  also  offers  a  metaphysic  in  which,  as  in  scholasticism,  the 
notion  of  God  forms  the  central  doctrine.  He  shows  the  nomi- 
nalistic influence,  however,  in  his  critical  attitude  with  respect 
to  the  solution  of  ultimate  problems,  placing  greater  value  on 
the  ethical  significance  of  belief  in  God  and  the  immortality  of 
the  soul  than  on  the  arguments  advanced  for  them. 

Petrus  Ramus  (Pierre  de  la  Ramee,  1515-1572)',  who  was  influ- 
enced by  Vives,  attacks  also  the  Aristotelian  logic  in  his 
Animadversions  on  Aristotle's  Dialectics,  1543,  accusing  it  of 
corrupting  the  natural  logic  of  the  human  mind,  and  holding 
the  great  Greek  thinker  responsible  for  the  barren  dialectical 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  NATURE  233 

method  current  in  the  universities.    In  the  Institutions  of  Dia- 
lectics, published  at  the  same  time,  he  offers  a  new  Ipgic,  which 
is  to  be  an  art  of  disputation  (ars  disserendi),  and 
shall  consist  in  first  finding  a  principle  and  then  ^»e torn? 
establishing  its  proof.    In  a  later  work  he  rejects 
the  Organon  ascribed  to  Aristotle  as  spurious  and  calls  himself 
the   only   genuine   Aristotelian.     In   criticising   the   scholastic 
methods  of  instruction  and  demanding  educational  reform,  he 
is  the  forerunner  of  Bacon,  Descartes,  Locke,  and,  indeed,  of 
nearly  all  the  early  modern  philosophers  who  had  chafed  under 
the  curriculum  of  the  School.     He,  more  than  any  one  else, 
expresses  the  spirit  of  humanism  in  the  field  of  education. 


38.   PHILOSOPHY  OF  NATURE  AND  NATURAL  SCIENCE 

We  have  spoken  in  the  preceding  pages  of  the  interest  in 
the  study  of  nature  which  was  beginning  to  manifest  itself  in 
this  age  of  enlightenment.  The  desire  to  unravel  ^ 
the  mysteries  of  the  external  world  assumes  a  fan- 
tastic and  charlatanical  form  in  many  of  the  bolder  spirits  of 
the  times.  Instead  of  employing  the  method  of  observation  and 
experiment,  they  hope,  in  their  impatience,  to  force  the  secrets 
of  nature  by  occult  means,  by  a  special  inner  revelation  superior 
to  sense-perception.  To  this  group  belong  the  Platonist  John 
Pico  of  Mirandola  (+  1494),  his  nephew  Francis  (+  1533),  and 
Reuchlin  (De  verbo  mirifico,  1494).  They  are  .enthusiastic 
students  of  the  Jewish  Cabala,  or  secret  emanation-theories, 
which  had  been  studied  by  the  Jews  from  the  ninth  century 
on,  and  which  were  popularly  supposed  to  go  back  to  Abraham. 

Others,  not  content  with  penetrating  the  secrets  of  nature  in 
this  way,  are  eager  to  gain  power  over  it,  to  compel  it  to  do 
their  bidding.  But  regarding  it,  as  they  do,  as  the  manifesta- 
tion of  occult  forces,  they  believe  it  possible  to  control  natural 
phenomena  by  coming  into  communion  with  these  spirits.  They 
expect  to  accomplish  their  purpose  by  means  of  secret  arts  and 
symbols,  mystic  formulae  of  all  kinds,  or  by  discovering  the  hid- 
den numbers  in  which,  according  to  the  Pythagorean  teaching, 
the  book  of  nature  is  written.  This  is  magic  or  theurgy.  Since 
the  planets,  too,  are  under  the  domination  of  spirits,  astrology 


234,  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

forms  an  important  part  of  the  doctrines  of  such  lovers  of  the 
occult.  They  are  also  deeply  interested  in  the  magical  trans- 
formation of  metals,  the  art  of  making  gold,  or  alchemy. 
Alchemy  was  placed  in  the  service  of  medicine,  and  all  kinds  of 
secret  compounds  and  tinctures,  mixed  in  the  most  fantastic 
ways,  were  used  to  cure  disease.  In  short,  the  entire  movement 
was  a  search  for  the  philosopher's  stone,  with  the  aid  of  which 
the  profoundest  secrets  of  nature  were  to  be  fathomed  and  com- 
plete control  gained  over  it. 

Agrippa  of  Nettesheim  (1487-1535)  and  Theophrastus  of  Hohenheim 
(1493-1541),  called  Paracelsus,  were  leading  figures  in  this  group  of 
wonder-men.  Among  later  followers  of  Paracelsus  are:  R.  Fludd 
(+1637),  John  Baptista  van  Helmont  (1577-1644),  and  Francis 
Mercurius  van  Helmont  (1618-1699). 

The  philosophical  foundation  of  Paracelsus 's  conception  of 
nature  is  Neoplatonism.  Man  is  the  microcosm,  hence  we  can 
understand  the  universe  only  by  studying  man,  and  man  only 
by  studying  the  universe.  Man  possesses  an  elementary  or 
terrestrial  or  visible  body,  a  sidereal  or  astral  or  invisible  body 
(the  spirit),  which  comes  from  the  sidereal  region,  and  a  soul, 
which  has  its  origin  in  God.  Hence,  there  are  three  great 
sciences:  philosophy,  astrology,  and  theology.  These  with 
alchemy  form  the  basis  of  the  science  of  medicine,  and  the 
physician  should  have  knowledge  of  all  of  them.  The  so-called 
four  elements,  earth,  water,  fire,  air,  are  composed  of  three  basal 
substances,  sal  (the  solid  principle),  mercury  (the  liquid),  and 
sulphur  (the  combustible).  Each  of  the  four  elements  is  ruled 
by  elemental  spirits,  earth  by  gnomes,  water  by  undines,  air  by 
sylphs,  and  fire  by  salamanders.  Each  particular  thing  has  an 
archeus  ruling  it,  and  disease  is  the  checking  of  this  vital  force 
by  opposing  terrestrial  and  astral  forces.  The  secret  of  medicine 
is  to  support  this  vital  force  against  its  enemies  by  means  of 
alchemy  and  magic. 

This  fantastic  conception  of  nature,  which  presents  a  curious 
mixture  of  supernaturalism  and  naturalism,  of  mysticism  and 
science,  is  finely  portrayed  by  Goethe  in  his  Faust.  In  Faust 
the  spirit  of  the  Renaissance  is  personified ;  the  insatiable  thirst 
for  knowledge,  the  primitive  methods  of  gaining  it,  the  medieval 
prejudices  and  superstitions,  the  ensuing  skepticism,  the  keen 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  NATURE  235 

longing  for  the  exuberance  of  life, — all  these  are  characteristics 
of  the  man  standing  at  the  turning-point  of  two  eras. 

There  was  nothing  to  cause  astonishment  in  doctrines  of  the 
kind  put  forth  by  Theophrastus  and  his  ilk.  The  view  of  nature 
as  the  abode  of  occult  magic  forces  chimed  in  with  the  popular 
beliefs.  Miracles  were  not  unusual,  saint  after  saint  performed 
them  during  his  life,  and  his  relics  exerted  magic  influence 
after  his  death.  And  men  who  occupied  themselves  with  the 
hidden  forces  or  the  black  arts  could  do  wonderful  things!  At 
the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  a  theologian  named  Jacobus 
Sprengel  wrote  a  book  on  witchcraft,  Malea  malefica,  in  which 
he  discussed,  with  all  seriousness  and  in  a  scientific  manner,  the 
causes  of  witchcraft,  its  effects,  and  the  remedies  to  be  used 
against  it. 

In  spite  of  its  extravagances  and  superstitions,  this  move- 
ment may  be  said  to  mark  progress.  It  is  an  attempt  to  study 
and  control  nature,  and  a  precursor  of  modern  science.  The 
followers  of  the  magic  arts  are  still  enamored  of  the  occult 
theories  and  practices  of  medievalism,  but  their  faces  are  turned 
toward  the  future.  In  the  course  of  time  the  extravagant  ele- 
ments are  stripped  off,  one  by  one;  alchemy  evolves  into  chem- 
istry, astrology  into  astronomy,  magic  into  experiment;  and 
the  mystical  Pythagorean  number-system  fosters  a  taste  for 
mathematics.  It  was  an  astrological  motive  that  induced 
Copernicus  to  inquire  into  the  mathematical  order  of  the 
heavens.  The  longest  way  round  is  sometimes  the  shortest  way 
home. 

Cf.  Lecky,  Rationalism;  A.  D.  White,  Warfare  of  Science  with 
Theology;  Kiesewetter,  Geschichte  des  neuern  Occultismus;  Rixnw  and 
Siber,  Leben  und  Lehrmeinungen  beruhmter  Physiker,  etc.;  Strunz, 
Paracelsus;  A.  Lehmann,  Aberglaube  und  Zauberei. 

In  Italy  we  find  a  number  of  nature-philosophers  who,  though 
not  entirely  free  from  the  old  superstitions,  such  as  alchemy 
and  astrology,  showed  the  true  scientific  spirit. 
Thus  Girolamo  Garden,  or  Cardan  (1501-1576),  a 
celebrated  physician,  mathematician,  and  scientist, 
tries  to  explain  all  things  naturally.  There  are  three  elements, 
not  four:  earth,  air,  water;  fire  is  not  a  substance  at  all,  but  an 


236  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

accident  (property)  produced  by  heat,  which  is  produced  by 
motion.  The  world  has  a  soul,  which  is  identical  with  light  and 
heat. 

De  subtilitate  rerum;  De  varietate  rerum;  De  vita  propria  (an  in- 
teresting autobiography). 

Bernardino  Telesio  (1508-1588;  De  rerum  natura)  has  as  his 
aim  the  reform  of  natural  science,  which  is  to  be  independent 
of  Aristotle  and  the  ancients  and  based  on  observation.  Although 
his  philosophy  far  surpasses  the  other  nature-systems  of  the  Re- 
naissance, it  is  not  free  from  Greek  influence;  traces  of  the 
Pre-Socratic  "  physiologers  "  and  touches  of  the  Stoic  meta- 
physics are  noticeable  in  it.  He  uses  as  his  principles  of  ex- 
planation matter  (which  was  created  by  God  and  remains  con- 
stant in  quantity)  and  force,  with  its  opposing  elements,  heat 
and  cold.  Heat  causes  expansion  and  rarefaction  in  matter, 
and  is  the  source  of  all  life  and  motion ;  cold  contracts  and  con- 
denses, and  is  the  cause  of  all  fixity  and  rest.  The  universe  owes 
its  existence  and  changes  to  the  constant  opposition  between  these 
two  principles.  Even  the  soul  (spiritus)  is  explained  mechan- 
ically and  materially  by  Telesio;  it  is  a  fine  stuff  consisting  of 
heat,  seated  in  the  brain  but  diffused  over  the  entire  body  by 
means  of  the  nerves.  It  is  the  principle  that  holds  the  parts 
of  the  organism  together  and  causes  their  motion.  In  addition 
to  the  material  soul  there  is  an  immortal  soul,  which  is  super- 
added  by  God.  In  his  ethics  Telesio  teaches  that  self-preservation 
is  the  sole  object  of  man's  striving. 

Telesio  was  the  founder  of  a  natural-scientific  society  at 
Naples,  the  Telesian  Academy.  Francis  Patrizzi  (1529-1597) 
combines  Neoplatonism  with  the  Telesian  principles. 

The  interest  in  external  nature,  which  so  frequently,  revealed 

itself  during  the  Middle  Ages  and  assumed  such  curious  shapes. 

culminated  in  the   scientific   movement   of  which 

Scientific          Leonardo  da  Vinci  (1452-1519),  Copernicus  (1473- 

1543),   Galileo    (1564-1641),   Kepler    (1571-1630) 

and  Newton  (1642-1727)   are  the  chief  representatives.     Her* 

the  occult  and  magic  elements  are  completely  eliminated,  anc 

the  attempt  made  to  explain  the  phenomena  of  nature  in  a  per 

fectly  natural  way.    The  old  Aristotelian  principles  of  explana 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  NATURE  237 

tion,  forms  or  essences  working  on  matter  and  causing  it  to 
realize  the  end  or  purpose  of  the  form,  are  discarded  for  the 
mechanical  explanation:  all  natural  occurrences  are  caused  by 
the  motion  of  bodies,  according  to  fixed  laws.  The  secret  of 
the  planetary  motions  is  revealed  by  mathematics:  Kepler  dis- 
covers the  orbits  of  the  planets,  and  astrology  becomes  astronomy. 
Robert  Boyle  (1627-1691)  introduces  the  atomic  theory  into 
chemistry  and,  though  himself  an  alchemist,  puts  the  quietus 
on  alchemy.  This  entire  anti-teleological  line  of  thought  reaches 
its  climax  in  the  Darwinian  theory  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
which  seeks  to  explain  organic  forms  causally  and  mechanically, 
without  appeal  to  vital  force  or  purpose  of  any  kind  in  the 
things  or  outside  of  the  things. 

See  the  histories  of  natural  science;  also  Lange,  History  of  Material- 
ism; Hoffding,  Modern  Philosophy,  vol.  I,  pp.  161,  ff. ;  and  works 
by  Lecky,  White,  Rixner  and  Siber  cited  p.  235.  Bibliography  in 
Ueberweg-Heinze,  Part  III,  vol.  I,  §  7. 

Galileo  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  theories  of 
Democritus,  whom  he  considers  superior  to  Aristotle  in  philo- 
sophical acumen.  All  change  he  regards  as  nothing  but  change 
in  the  relation  of  the  parts  of  objects ;  there  is  neither  origin  nor 
decay  in  the  strict  sense,  everything  being  the  result  of  the  move- 
ment of  atoms.  Sensible  qualities  are  subjective  and  are  based  on 
quantitative  relations;  all  qualities  are  explained  by  quantities. 
Hence  mathematics,  which  deals  with  quantitative  relations,  is 
the  highest  science :  '  *  the  book  of  the  universe  is  written  in 
mathematical  characters."  Whatever  we  can  measure  we  can 
know ;  what  we  cannot  measure  we  cannot  know ;  we  can  reduce 
the  relations  of  motion  to  mathematical  formulae,  hence  we  can 
explain  occurrences  in  terms  of  motion  and  its  laws.  These 
laws,  which  form  the  basis  of  the  study  of  mechanics,  are  dis- 
covered and  formulated  by  Leonardo,  Kepler,  and  Galileo.  The 
work  of  Galileo  and  Kepler  establishes  the  Copernican  or  helio- 
centric theory  of  astronomy,  according  to  which  the  earth  is  no 
longer  conceived  as  the  immovable  center  of  the  universe,  but, 
with  all  the  planets,  revolves  around  the  central  sun,  which  moves 
on  its  axis.  The  Copernican  theory,  though  at  first  favorably 
received  by  the  Church,  was  condemned  as  * '  pernicious  to  Catho- 


238  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

lie  truth  "  and  placed  on  the  Index  in  1616.  Galileo  was  forced 
to  recant  the  Copernican  theory  in  1633,  and  remained  under  the 
surveillance  of  the  Inquisition  until  his  death,  1641.  With  the 
discovery  by  Sir  Isaac  Newton  (1642-1727)  of  the  law  of  gravi- 
tation in  1682,  the  theory  is  demonstrated :  the  laws  which  Kep- 
ler discovered  are  found  to  be  necessary  consequences  of  the 
law  of  gravitation. 

Galileo  rejects  authority  and  mystical  speculation  in  matters 
of  science  and  declares  that  all  our  universal  propositions  should 
rest  on  observation  and  experiment.  But,  he  says,  experience 
needs  to  be  supplemented  by  the  understanding ;  induction  itself 
goes  beyond  experience.  We  embrace  facts  under  laws ;  we 
reduce  facts  to  their  simple  and  necessary  causes  by  abstracting 
from  the  accidental  circumstances ;  all  this  is  thought.  The  ideal 
method  of  investigation  is  demonstration  based  on  experiment, 
observation,  and  thought. 

Pierre  Gassendi  (1592-1655)  renews  the  doctrines  of  Epicurus 
and  Lucretius,  and  opposes  the  corpuscular  theory  of  the  philosopher 
Descartes.  At  the  same  time,  he  supplements  his  mechanical  theory 
with  theological  notions,  making  God  the  beginner  of  motion.  Pere 
Mersenne  (1588-1648)  and  Robert  Boyle  (1627-1691)  seek  to  recon- 
cile Gassendi's  atomism  and  Descartes's  corpuscular  view.  Boyle  in- 
troduces atomism  into  chemistry,  but  regards  atomism  as  an  instru- 
ment of  method,  not  as  a  philosophical  theory  of  the  universe.  The 
world  points  to  an  intelligent  creator  and  designer,  who  initiated  the 
motion.  Newton  held  a  similar  theistic  view. 


39.    GIORDANO  BRUNO  AND  TOMMASO  CAMPANELLA 

In  the  writings  of  the  Italians  Giordano  Bruno  (1548-1600) 
and  Tommaso  Campanella  (1568-1639)  we  have  comprehensive 
systems  of  metaphysics,  conceived  in  the  spirit  of  the  new  age. 

Bruno  joined  the  Dominican  order,  but  left  it  and  journeyed  from 

city  to  city,  a  restless  wanderer  until  he  again  set  foot  on  Italian  soil, 

•D  in  1592,  when  he  was  imprisoned  by  the  Inquisition. 

Refusing  to  renounce  his  convictions,  he  was  burned  at 

the  stake  (1600)  in  Rome,  after  an  imprisonment  of  seven  years. 

Delia  causa,  infinito,  ed  uno;  De  triplici,  minima  et  mensura;  De 
monade,  etc.;  De  immense,  etc.  Italian  works  edited  by  Croce  and 
Gentile;  Latin  by  Tocco;  unpublished  writings  ed.  by  Lutoslawski  and 
Tocco.  German  translations  of  complete  works  by  Kuhlenbeck;  Eng- 
lish translations  of  Spaccio  (Morehead)^  Eroici  (L.  Williams),  and 


BRUNO  AND  CAMPANELLA  239 

Preface  to  Infinite  (J.  Toland).  Plumptre,  Life  and  Works  of  Bruno; 
A.  Riehl,  G.  Bruno,  transl.  by  Fry;  Alclntyre,  Bruno;  Gentile,  Giordano 
Bruno  nella  storia  nella  cullura.  Bibliography  in  Ueberweg-Heinze, 
Part  III,  §  7. 

Bruno  is  impressed  with  the  immensity  of  the  new  astronom- 
ical universe,  and  regards  the  fixed  stars  as  planetary  systems 
like  our  own.  God  is  immanent  in  the  infinite  universe,  the  active 
principle  (natura  naturans)  ;  he  expresses  himself  in  the  living 
world  (natura  naturata),  which  follows  from  him  with  inner 
necessity.  With  Cusa,  he  conceives  him  as  the  unity  of  all 
opposites,  as  the  unity  without  opposites,  as  the  one  and  the 
many,  whom  the  finite  mind  cannot  grasp. 

The  old  Aristotelian  forms,  however,  are  not  discarded  in  the 
system  of  Bruno.  Each  star  is  moved  by  a  form  or  soul,  and 
there  is  soul  and  life  in  all  things.  Form  without  matter  does 
not  exist,  the  two  together  constitute  a  unity;  but  forms  arise 
and  pass  away  in  matter.  All  particular  things  change,  but  the 
universe  remains  constant  in  its  absolute  perfection. 

To  these  teachings  Bruno  adds  a  doctrine  of  monads,  or 
monadology,  that  reminds  us  of  the  Stoic  germ-theory.  Things 
are  composed  of  uncaused  and  imperishable  elementary  parts 
called  monads,  which  are  both  mental  and  physical.  The  soul 
itself  is  an  immortal  monad,  and  God  is  the  monad  of  monads. 

Tommaso  Campanella  (1568-1639) ,  too,  was  a  Dominican  monk, 
and  he,  too,  was  persecuted  by  the  Inquisition,  having  spent 
twenty-seven  years  of  his  life  in  prison  on  account 
of  political  ideals  which  he  never  attempted  to  put 
into  practice.  He,  also,  is  a  child  of  his  age  in  that  his  thoughts 
both  hark  back  to  the  past  and  point  forward  to  the  future.  He 
tells  us  to  study  nature  directly  and  not  from  books,  that  all 
our  philosophical  knowledge  is  based  on  sensation,  that  all  higher 
forms  of  cognition  are  merely  different  forms  of  sensation.  At 
the  same  time,  nature  is  a  revelation  of  God  and  faith  is  a  form 
of  knowledge, — the  source  from  which  theology  springs. 

Philosophic*  sensibus  demonstrates;  Universalis  philosophia,  etc.; 
Civitas  solis.  Works  ed.  by  d'Ancona. 

In  sensation  we  become  aware  of  our  own  existence,  of  our 
own  states  of  consciousness, — of  how  things  affect  us,  not%  how- 


240  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

ever,  of  what  they  are  in  themselves.  With  Augustine  before 
him  and  Descartes  after  him,  Campanella  finds  in  consciousness 
the  pivot  of  certainty:  whatever  else  we  may  doubt,  we  cannot 
doubt  that  we  have  sensations  and  that  we  exist.  Introspection 
also  reveals  to  us  the  three  primal  attributes  of  the  soul :  power, 
cognition,  and  will  (posse,  nosse,  velle),  which,  in  perfect  form, 
are  likewise  the  attributes  of  God,  namely,  omnipotence,  om- 
niscience, and  absolute  goodness.  Campanella 's  assumption  here 
is  that  since  God  is  the  ground  of  all  things  and  man  the  little 
world  (parvus  mundus),  the  divine  qualities  must  attach  to  the 
human  soul  in  a  finite  degree.  The  same  principles  are  present 
in  all  being;  in  the  lower  forms  of  existence,  however,  that  is, 
when  mixed  with  non-being,  they  appear  as  impotence,  ignorance, 
and  malice.  The  world,  in  other  words,  is  conceived,  with  Neo- 
platonism,  as  a  series  of  emanations  from  God ;  he  has  produced 
the  angels,  ideas,  spirits,  immortal  human  souls,  space  and  bodies. 
We  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  God,  and  he  reveals  him- 
self also  in  the  Bible;  but  we  can  prove  his  existence  from  our 
notion  of  an  infinite  being,  an  idea  which  we  could  not  have 
produced  ourselves  and  which  therefore  implies  an  infinite  cause. 
This  argument  plays  an  important  role  in  the  later  Cartesian 
system. 

In  his  City  of  the  Sun  (Civitas  Solis)  Campanella  offers  a 
socialistic  theory  of  the  State  that  recalls  Plato's  Republic.  It 
is  a  State  of  enlightenment  (a  city  of  the  sun)  in  which  power 
is  governed  by  knowledge;  the  principle  of  equality  prevails 
in  it,  there  being  no  class  distinctions  except  according  to  knowl- 
edge. Philosophers  (priests)  are  the  rulers,  and  it  is  to  be  a 
universal  papal  monarchy  with  religious  unity,  dominating  the 
secular  State.  Education,  which  is  to  be  universal  and  compul- 
sory, will  be  based  on  mathematics  and  natural  science,  and  the 
pupils  are  to  be  trained  for  their  different  occupations.  Cam- 
panella also  recommends  learning  by  play,  open-air  schools,  and 
object  lessons. 


NEW  THEORIES  OF  THE  STATE  241 

40.   NEW  THEORIES  OP  THE  STATE;  PHILOSOPHY  OP  RELIGION; 
AND  SKEPTICISM 

The  attempt  is  also  made  by  the  age  to  work  out  a  new  theory 
of  the  State,  one  that  shall  be  independent  of  theology  and  Aris- 
totle, exhibiting,  in  this  respect,  the  same  opposi- 
tion to  authority  and  tradition  that  characterizes   Scholastic 
the  other  fields  of  thought.     The  orthodox  school-  j^g^* 
men   had   defended  the   temporal    power   of   the 
ecclesiastical  hierarchy  and  the  subordination  of  State  to  Church. 
Writers  like  Thomas  Aquinas  justified  papal  supremacy  by  argu- 
ments resting  upon  Christian  and  Aristotelian  premises.     The 
purpose  of  all  human  government,  they  held,  is  welfare ;  a  ruler 
who  serves  that  end  is  good,  one  who  does  not  is  bad  and  may  be 
deposed.    Since  the  supreme  welfare  of  a  people  is  its  spiritual 
welfare,  a  sovereign  who  refuses  to  accept  the  Christian  dogma, 
or  even  places  himself  in  opposition  to  the  Church,  endangers 
the  true  good  of  his  subjects,  and  such  a  course  justifies  re- 
bellion.    The  Church  is  of  divine  origin;  it  is  the  vicegerent  of 
God  on  earth  and  the  court  of  last  resort  in  matters  of  faith, 
and  its  function  is  to  propagate  the  Christian  religion.     The 
State  is,  therefore,  in  the  last  analysis,  subservient  to  the  Church, 
and  politics,  like  philosophy,  is  the  handmaiden  of  theology. 

See  the  histories  of  politics  mentioned  pp.  5,  223;  also  Hoffding, 
op.  cit.f  pp.  38-58 ;  Falckenberg,  op.  cit.,  pp.  39-48 ;  Lecky,  Rationalism, 
chap,  v;  Giercke,  J.  Althusius  und  die  Entwicklung  der  naturrecht- 
lichen  Staatstheorie;  A.  D.  White,  Seven  Great  Statesmen. 

As  has  already  been  pointed  out,  this  political  theory  and 
the  efforts  to  put  it  into  practice  were  opposed  by  the  secular 

powers,  and,  in  the  centuries  witnessing  the  decline 

s  xi.  i_     ^  XT.  v    /^i_  -  x-  -x  Machiavelh 

of  the  papacy,  by  Catholic  Christian  writers  them- 
selves. During  the  period  of  the  Renaissance  and  the  Protestant 
Reformation,  the  opposition  to  the  Catholic  idea  grew  stronger, 
and  the  foundations  were  laid  for  the  political  theories  which 
have  played  such  an  important  role  in  the  history  of  the  modern 
era.  The  most  radical  attack  came  from  the  Italian  diplomat 
Nicolo  Machiavelli  (1469-1527),  secretary  of  the  Chancellery 
of  the  Council  of  Ten  at  Florence,  who  had  gained  a  discourag- 


242  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

ing  insight  into  the  political  corruption  of  the  Eoman  Curia 
and  the  Italian  governments,  and  who  presented  his  views  in 
his  History  of  Florence  (1532),  Essays  on  the  First  Decade  of 
Livy  (1532),  and  The  Prince  (1515). 

Essay  on  Machiavelli  in  Cambridge  Modern  History,  vol.  I;  Villari, 
History  of  Machiavelli  and  his  Times,  2  vols. 

The  ideal  of  Machiavelli  was  a  united,  independent,  and  sov- 
ereign Italian  nation,  absolutely  free  from  the  domination  of  the 
Church  in  politics,  science,  and  religion.  Christianity,  he  held, 
discourages  political  activity  on  the  part  of  the  citizen  and  makes 
him  passive;  hence,  the  old  Roman  religion,  which  developed 
patriots,  is  preferable.  The  best  form  of  government  would  be 
a  republic  of  the  type  so  brilliantly  exemplified  in  Sparta,  Rome, 
and  Venice.  But  such  a  constitution  is  possible  only  where 
public  spirit  exists;  when  men  are  pure,  freedom  is  a  necessity. 
In  times  of  corruption,  however  (like  those  in  which  Machiavelli 
lived),  an  absolute  despotism  is  needed  to  realize  the  ideal  of 
a  strong  and  independent  State,  and  civic  freedom  must  be  sac- 
rificed. (How  terrible  the  political  conditions  of  his  country 
were,  may  be  seen  from  a  study  of  the  history  of  the  countless 
petty  despots  of  the  Italian  Renaissance.*)  It  is,  therefore, 
right  for  the  Prince  to  employ  whatever  means  will  lead  to  the 
nationalistic  goal;  force,  deceit,  severity,  breach  of  the  so-called 
moral  laws  are  all  justified  by  the  great  end ;  anything  is  pref- 
erable to  the  existing  anarchy  and  corruption.  Machiavelli 's  po- 
litical thought  is  rooted  in  his  abhorrence  of  the  secular  and 
ecclesiastical  politics  of  his  day;  in  his  pessimistic  conception 
of  human  nature, — which  hunger  alone  makes  industrious  and 
law  good, — and  in  his  longing  for  a  rational  commonwealth. 
He  saw  no  way  out  of  the  corruption  and  disorder  of  his  ag3 
except  by  meeting  force  with  force,  trickery  with  trickery,  and 
by  fighting  the  devil  with  his  own  weapons;  and  he  condemned 
halfway  measures  in  the  pursuit  of  the  goal.  He  justified  i:i 
theory  what  many  politicians  of  Church  and  State  have  prac- 
tised and  continue  to  practise  to  this  day,  but  he  justified  it  onl  y 
because  he  saw  no  other  way  of  saving  the  State. 

*  Cf .  Burekhardt,  The  Culture  of  the  Renaissance. 


NEW  THEORIES  OF  THE  STATE  243 

It  became  necessary  to  construct  a  political  theory  independ- 
ent of  theology  and  the  Church  and  in  harmony  with  the  new 
ideal  of  a  sovereign  State.  The  problem  was  not 
merely  theoretical ;  the  existence  of  different  Chris- 
tian  sects  naturally  suggested  the  question  of  the 
relation  of  these  bodies  to  the  State  and  the  Prince,  and  made 
a  consideration  of  the  meaning  and  source  of  sovereignty  a  prac- 
tical necessity.  In  working  out  a  new  political  philosophy,  many 
of  the  theories  of  the  medieval  thinkers  to  whom  we  have  re- 
ferred were  utilized  and  developed:  the  contract  theory,  the 
notion  of  popular  sovereignty  and  the  sovereignty  of  the  ruler, 
the  idea  of  natural  law  and  natural  rights.  Lines  of  thought 
were  marked  out  which  led  to  the  theories  of  Hobbes  on  the 
one  hand,  and  those  of  Locke  and  Rousseau  on  the  other,  and 
found  practical  application  in  both  absolutism  and  democracy. 

Jean  Bodin  (1530-1596)  teaches  that  the  State  rests  on  a 
social  contract  by  which  the  popular  sovereignty  has  been  ir- 
revocably transferred  to  the  ruler.  Johannes  Althusius  (1557- 
1638)  regards  the  contract  as  conditional  on  the  ruler's  observ- 
ance of  his  part  of  it;  the  sovereignty  of  the  people  cannot  be 
alienated,  the  authority  of  the  ruling  functionary  or  function- 
aries is  revocable ;  and  the  prince  who  violates  the  contract  may 
be  deposed  or  executed.  The  idea  gains  ground,  partly  owing  to 
religious  oppression,  that  the  State  ought  not  to  interfere  with 
the  religious  convictions  of  its  citizens,  and  the  right  of  revolu- 
tion is  upheld.  Alberico  Gentile  (1551-1611)  discusses  the  law 
of  war  in  his  book  (De  jure  belli,  1588),  and  Thomas  More 
offers  a  socialistic  ideal  of  the  State  in  his  Utopia  (1516). 

The  theory  of  absolutism,  in  moderate  form,  is  accepted  by 
Hugo  Grotius  (Huig  van  Groot,  1583-1645),  a  leader  of  the 
aristocratic  party  in  Holland,  and  Samuel  Pufendorf  (1632- 
1694).  Grotius  is  the  author  of  the  celebrated  work  De  jure 
belli  et  pads  (1625),  in  which  he  presents  a  theory  of  natural 
rights  that  is  an  inheritance  from  Stoicism  and  Roman  law.  The 
natural  or  unwritten  law  (jus  naturale)  is  rooted  in  the  rational 
nature  of  man,  it  is  unalterable  and  God  himself  cannot  change 
it;  positive  law  (jus  voluntarium  or  civile)  arises  in  history,  is 
the  result  of  voluntary  enactment,  and  is  based  on  the  principle 
of  utility.  Society  owes  its  origin  to  the  social  nature  of  man, 


244  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

which  is  the  source  of  love  of  neighbor  and  all  other  duties.  In 
society  natural  rights  are  limited  by  regard  for  social  welfare; 
whatever  conduces  to  the  existence  of  social  life  is  also  a  natural 
right.  The  State,  therefore,  rests  on  reason  and  human  nature ; 
it  is  not  an  artificial  creation  of  God,  but  a  natural  institution. 
It  depends  on  the  free  consent  of  its  members,  that  is,  on  con- 
tract ;  hence,  the  rights  of  the  individual  can  never  be  abrogated. 
The  people  has  sovereignty  but  may  surrender  it,  for  all  times, 
to  a  monarch  or  a  class.  War  between  nations  is  justifiable  only 
in  case  of  violation  of  natural  rights,  but  should  be  carried  on 
humanely. 

Translation  of  De  jure  belli  by  Whewell,  3  vols. 

Other  writers  on  politics  are:  Ayala,  Oldendorp  (+1561),  Nicolas 
Hemming  (1513-1600),  Alberico  Gentile  (1551-1611),  Benedict  Winkler 
(+1648).  Pufendorf  is  a  follower  of  Grote  and  Hobbes,  and  intro- 
duces the  notion  of  natural  law  into  Germany;  sovereignty  implies 
unity  of  will  and,  therefore,  the  absolute  right  of  the  monarch. 

Among  the  orthodox  writers,  the  Protestants  Luther  and  Melanchthon 
conceived  the  State  as  of  divine  origin,  while  the  Jesuits  Bellarmin 
(1542-1621)  and  Juan  Mariana  (1537-1624)  advocated  the  contract 
theory  and  the  doctrine  of  popular  sovereignty. 

These  theories  reflect  the  evolution  of  political  ideas  and  po- 
litical institutions  after  the  medieval  period.  In  the  Middle 

Ages  the  State  did  not  possess  sovereignty  in  the 
Evolution  sense  in  which  modern  states  possess  it.  The  me- 
Modern  State  ^ieval  ruler  na(*  certain  limited  rights,  and  the 

feudal  lords  had  their  rights,  but  there  was  fre- 
quent conflict  between  emperors  and  kings  and  their  vassals,  and 
the  power  of  the  ruler  depended  on  the  good-will  of  his  vassals 
and  on  his  military  strength.  In  Germany  and  in  Italy  the  cen- 
tralized State  gradually  divided  into  a  loose  federation  of  state? 
after  the  breakdown  of  the  feudal  system  and  of  the  territorial 
lords.  In  France  the  tendency  was  the  other  way, — from  a 
loose  federation  of  states  to  a  unified  State  or  Nation  with  an 
absolute  king.  England  remained  a  centralized  State,  but  the 
king's  power  declined  as  the  power  of  the  people  grew.  In  any 
case,  however,  the  idea  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  State  was  only 
gradually  developed,  and  it  is  only  as  the  result  of  historical 
evolution  that  the  State  becomes  sovereign  and  extends  its  fune- 


NEW  PHILOSOPHY  OF  RELIGION  245 

tions,  that  is,  becomes  modern.  The  tendency  at  the  beginning 
of  the  modern  era  was  towards  absolutism,  which  reached  its 
climax  in  the  last  half  of  the  seventeenth  and  the  first  half  of 
the  eighteenth  century  (Louis  XIV) ;  the  power  of  the  ruler 
was,  theoretically,  unlimited,  the  subject  received  whatever  rights 
he  might  have  from  the  State,  which  was  incarnate  in  the  ruler : 
L'etat,  c'est  moi,  so  Louis  XIV  declared.  The  notion  of  the 
sovereignty  of  the  State  has  remained  intact ;  but  the  opposition 
to  absolutism  which  was  reflected  in  the  theories  of  Althusius, 
Locke,  and  Rousseau  gained  ground  and  ended  in  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  constitutional  monarchies  and  democracies  of 
our  era. 

The  new  philosophy  offers  natural  or  rational  instead  of  super- 
natural explanations  of  things,  as  we  have  seen.  It  applies  its 
method  not  only  in  metaphysical  systems,  but  also 
in  special  fields  of  thought,  among  them  politics  Ne^ 
and  religion.  Herbert  of  Cherbury  (1583-1648)  of  Rdi^on 
presents  a  philosophy  of  religion  based  on  a  theory 
of  knowledge  and  independent  of  any  positive  or  historical  reli- 
gion. He  regards  as  rational  or  natural  truths  common  to  all 
religions :  that  there  is  one  God,  that  he  ought  to  be  worshiped, 
that  worship  consists  of  piety  and  virtue,  that  we  must  repent 
of  our  sins,  and  that  there  are  present  and  future  rewards  and 
punishments.  These,  in  other  words,  are  the  beliefs  to  which 
a  natural  man,  unhampered  by  prejudices  and  following  his  own 
reason,  would  come ;  they  are  truths  implanted  by  nature.  They 
belong  to  the  group  of  notitice  communes  or  universal  notions, 
which  are  of  divine  origin  and  have  as  their  distinguishing 
marks:  priority,  independence,  universality,  certainty,  necessity 
(in  the  sense  of  utility),  and  immediacy.  This  original  natural 
religion  has  been  corrupted  by  priests,  according  to  Herbert, 
but  has  been  restored  by  Christianity.  It  may  be  supple- 
mented by  revelation,  but  the  revelation  must  be  rational. 
Herbert  is  the  predecessor  of  the  deists  and  the  advocates 
of  the  theory  of  natural  or  rational  religion  in  the  eighteenth 
century. 

De  veritate,  etc.,  1624;  De  religione  gentilium,  1645,  transl.  by  Lewis, 
1705;  autobiography,  ed.  by  S.  Lee.  Monographs  by  Remusat  and 
Guttler.  Cf.  Lechler,  Geschichte  des  englischen  Deismus. 


246  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

A  note  of  skepticism  similar  to  that  heard  in  nominalism  and 
mysticism  is  found  in  a  number  of  French  thinkers  of  the  Re- 
naissance, who  were  influenced  by  Greek  skeptical 
writings.  Thus  Michel  de  Montaigne  (1533-1592), 
the  author  of  the  celebrated  Essays,  doubts  the  possibility  of 
certain  knowledge,  for  reasons  with  which  we  have  become  fa- 
miliar in  our  account  of  Greek  skepticism.  He  despairs  of 
reason  and  recommends  a  return  to  uncorrupted  nature  and 
revelation.  Although  we  cannot  have  knowledge,  however,  he 
urges,  we  can  do  our  duty  and  submit  to  the  divine  commands. 
According  to  Pierre  Charron  (1541-1603),  the  skeptical  attitude 
keeps  alive  the  spirit  of  inquiry  and  leads  us  to  faith  in  Chris- 
tianity, the  true  religion.  He  emphasizes  the  practical  ethical 
side  of  Christianity.  Francis  Sanchez  (+1632),  too,  denies 
the  possibility  of  absolute  knowledge  in  the  sense  that  finite 
beings  cannot  grasp  the  inner  essence  of  things  or  understand 
the  meaning  of  the  universe  as  a  whole,  but  holds  that  we  can 
know  secondary  causes  through  observation  and  experiment. 
Later  French  skeptics  are:  La  Mothe  le  Vayer  (+1672)  and 
the  Bishop  Pierre  Huet  (+1721).  Joseph  Glanvil  (1636-1680), 
Hieronymus  Hirnheim,  of  Prague  (+1679),  and,  in  a  sense, 
Pierre  Bayle  (1647-1706),  author  of  the  Dictionnaire  historique 
et  critique  (1695),  belong  to  the  same  movement  (see  p.  291). 

Montaigne's  Essays,  ed.  by  Courbet  and  Royer,  transl.  by  Florio. 
Cf.  Levy-Bruhl,  Modern  Philosophy  in  France-,  works  on  Skepticism, 
p.  117;  monographs  on  Montaigne  by  Stapfer,  Dowden,  Lowndes. 

41.   RELIGIOUS  REFORM 

The  Italian  Renaissance  rebelled  against  authority  and  the 
scholastic  system,  and  found  inspiration  in  the  literary  and 

artistic  products  of  classical  antiquity.  It  was  the 
Spirit  protest  of  the  head  against  intellectual  coercion. 

Reformation  ^^e  German  Reformation  is  a  religious  awakening 

or  renaissance :  it  is  the  protest  of  the  heart  against 
the  mechanization  of  the  faith.  As  humanism  had  turned  to  an- 
cient philosophy,  literature,  and  art  for  help,  so  the  religious 
revival  turns  to  the  Bible  and  the  simple  faith  of  the  early  Fa- 
thers, especially  St.  Augustine,  for  support.  In  place  of  scholastic 


RELIGIOUS  REFORM  247 

theology,  the  elaborate  system  of  works  and  indulgences,  and 
the  ritualism  of  the  cultus,  the  Reformation  emphasizes  inner 
religion  and  heart- worship :  justification  by  faith  instead  of  justi- 
fication by  works.  The  Reformation  joins  the  Renaissance  in  its 
contempt  of  "  barren  scholasticism,"  its  opposition  to  ecclesias- 
tical authority  and  temporal  power,  and  in  its  exaltation  of  the 
human  conscience ;  but  it  does  not  go  with  it  in  its  glorification 
of  the  intellect  nor  share  its  optimistic  joy  of  life.  Luther  had 
come  under  the  spell  of  the  nominalistic  mystics  and  looked  upon 
reason  with  primitive  Christian  suspicion, — reason  is  blind  in 
matters  concerning  the  salvation  of  our  souls;  a  thing  may  be 
false  in  philosophy  and  true  in  theology,  in  a  theology  rooted  in 
faith, — and  he  despised  the  scholastic  Aristotle  no  less  than 
the  true  Aristotle. 

But  in  spite  of  the  anti-rationalistic  attitude  of  the  vigorous 
leader  of  the  Reformation,  the  new  religious  movement  fostered 
the  spirit  of  critical  reflection  and  independent  thought  no  less 
than  the  Renaissance.  In  refusing  to  accept  the  Church  as  the 
arbiter  of  Christian  faith  and  in  appealing  to  the  Bible  and 
the  conscience,  it  gave  reason  the  right  to  sit  in  judgment  on 
the  doctrines  of  religion  and  encouraged  rationalism  and  indi- 
vidualism. This  is  not  what  Luther  aimed  at,  but  it  was  an 
inevitable  practical  consequence  of  his  protest  against  the  authori- 
tative Church  and  the  authoritative  theology,  a  consequence 
which  Protestantism  at  large  did  not  hesitate  to  draw.  Indeed, 
the  reformers  themselves  differed  in  their  interpretation  of  im- 
portant Christian  dogmas,  and  the  new  church  soon  divided  into 
separate  sects:  Luther  accepts  the  mystical  presence  of  Christ 
in  the  Eucharist;  Zwingli,  the  most  liberal  of  the  reformers, 
regards  the  sacrament  as  a  symbol ;  and  Calvin  teaches  the  doc- 
trine of  predestination,  which  the  Catholic  Church  had  refused 
to  accept  in  spite  of  her  respect  for  the  great  Augustine. 

Although  Luther  had  rejected  scholastic  philosophy  as  barren 
word-wisdom,  the  new  church  soon  felt  the  need  of  rationalizing 
the  faith ;  in  other  words,  of  constructing  a  scholas- 
tic system  of  its  own.    The  appeal  to  the  Bible  and   Scholasticism 
the  faith  of  primitive  Christian  times  opened  the 
door  to  all  kinds  of  fantastic  sects,  which  interpreted  the  Chris- 
tian teachings  according  to  their  own  lights;  this  is  what  hap- 


248  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES 

pened  in  the  case  of  the  Anabaptists  and  Iconoclasts.  With  the 
organization  of  a  new  church,  a  religious  platform  became  a 
practical  necessity,  and  the  movement  which  had  sprung  from 
mysticism,  and  had  arisen  as  a  protest  against  the  mechanization 
of  religion,  now  forgot  its  mystical  origin  and  began  to  make 
dogma  itself.  The  theologian  who  undertook  the  work  of  con- 
structing a  "  Protestant  system  "  in  Germany  was  Melanchthon 
(1497-1560).  He  selected  as  most  suitable  for  his  task  the  Aris- 
totelian world-view,  "  as  that  species  of  philosophy  which  has 
the  least  sophistry  and  the  right  method."  The  Epicureans  were 
too  godless  for  him,  the  Stoics  too  fatalistic,  Plato  and  Neopla- 
tonism  too  vague  and  heretical,  the  Middle  Academy  too  skep- 
tical. Luther,  too,  begins  to  see  the  need  of  a  philosophical  sup- 
port for  the  Eeformation.  Melanchthon  writes  the  text-books  of 
Protestantism,  using  Aristotle  as  his  guide,  and  becomes  the 
prceceptor  Germanice.  His  books  were  used  in  Germany  through- 
out the  seventeenth  century.  The  philosophy  of  Nicolaus 
Taurellus  (Ochslein,  1547-1606)  is  a  Protestant  attempt  to  con- 
struct a  scholastic  system  on  an  Augustinian  basis.  Its  opposi- 
tion to  Aristotelianism  represents  the  protest  of  the  Augustinian- 
mystical  wing  of  Protestantism  against  the  official  church 
doctrine.  The  conception  of  the  universe  as  an  order  governed 
by  law  without  divine  interference  shows  the  influence  of  the 
new  natural  science.  Calvin  likewise  goes  back  to  Augustine, 
as  do  also  the  Catholic  Jansenists  of  Port  Royal,  while  Zwingli 
follows  Neoplatonism. 

Mysticism,  however,   continued  to  find  a  refuge  among  the 
common  people ;  and  its  chief  representatives,  men  like  Osiander 
(  +  1552),  Caspar  Schwenkfeld  (  +  1561),  Sebastian 
Mysticism  of    Frank   (+1545),  and  Valentin  Weigel   (+1594), 
B    hme  protested  against  the  scholasticism  and  formalism  of 

the  Reformation,  as  Luther  himself  had  once  thun- 
dered  against  Rome.  At  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, mysticism  again  finds  its  voice  in  a  comprehensive  system 
offered  by  an  uneducated  German  cobbler,  Jacob  Boehme  (1575- 
1624),  in  his  work  Aurora. 

Collected  works  ed.  by  Schiebler;  selections  from  writings  ed.  by 
Classen;  transl.  by  W.  Law;  monographs  by  Martensen  (transl.), 
Deussen,  and  Lasson.  Cf.  books  on  Mysticism,  p.  177. 


RELIGIOUS  REFORM  219 

Troubled  by  the  fact  of  sin  in  the  world,  Boehme  attempts  to 
account  for  it  as  a  necessary  phase  in  the  process  of  divine 
self-expression.  Everywhere  in  reality  he  finds  oppositions  and 
contradictions:  there  is  no  good  without  evil,  no  light  without 
darkness,  no  quality  without  its  difference.  Since  all  things  come 
from  God,  he  must  be  the  primal  ground  of  all  opposition;  in 
him  all  contrarieties  of  nature  must  lie  concealed.  Conceived 
as  the  original  source  of  things,  he  is  an  undifferentiated,  un- 
qualified, motionless  being :  absolute  quiescence,  all  and  nothing, 
the  fathomless  ground,  the  primal  objectless  mil.  In  order  that 
this  principle  may  manifest  itself  and  know  itself,  it  must  become 
differentiated,  it  must  have  something  to  contemplate;  as  light 
needs  darkness  to  be  revealed,  so  God  cannot  become  conscious 
of  himself  and  express  himself  without  an  object.  The  divine 
blind  craving  gives  rise  to  the  oppositions  which  confront  us 
in  existence. 

Significant  in  Boehme 's  world-view  are  the  teachings  that  the 
universe  is  a  union  of  contradictions,  that  life  and  progress  im- 
ply opposition,  that  the  ground  of  all  reality  lies  in  a  spiritual 
principle  (pantheism),  that  this  principle  is  not  fundamentally 
intelligence  (as  Eckhart  had  taught),  but  a  groundless  will  (vol- 
untarism), and  that  existence  is  a  procession  from  darkness 
to  light.  Boehme  attempts  to  trace  the  evolution  of  this  process, 
combining  Christian  theological  ideas  (Trinity,  angels,  fall  of 
Lucifer,  fall  of  man,  plan  of  salvation)  with  all  kinds  of  fan- 
tastic notions,  derived  from  the  magical  nature-philosophy  of 
Paracelsus,  which  had  found  their  way  into  German  Protestant 
mysticism.  As  in  Neoplatonism,  the  process  must  retrace  its 
steps  and  return  to  its  source :  the  concrete  material  world,  which 
is  the  result  of  Lucifer's  sin  and  a  caricature  of  God,  finds  its 
way  home  to  God ;  the  material  garment  is  cast  off,  and  God  con- 
templates the  essence  of  things  in  their  naked  purity. 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

42.    THE  SPIRIT  OF  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  history  of  the  new  era  may  be  viewed  as  an  awakening 
of  the  reflective  spirit,  as  a  quickening  of  criticism,  as  a  revolt 

against  authority  and  tradition,  as  a  protest  against 
Character-is-  absolutism  and  collectivism,  as  a  demand  for  free- 
Modern  Era  ^om  *n  thought,  feeling,  and  action.  The  leaven 

which  had  begun  to  work  in  the  transition  period 
of  the  Renaissance  and  the  Reformation  continued  active 
throughout  the  following  centuries  and  has  not  yet  come  to  rest. 
The  political  conflict  was  settled  in  favor  of  the  State,  and  the 
State  gradually  took  the  place  of  the  Church  as  an  organ  of 
civilization:  ecclesiasticism  gave  way  to  nationalism.  Within 
the  State  itself  there  appeared  a  growing  tendency  towards  con- 
stitutionalism and  democratic  institutions,  which  is  still  alive: 
the  demand  for  equal  rights  and  social  justice  is  abroad 
in  every  land.  The  spirit  of  independence  which  had  raised 
its  voice  against  the  authority  of  the  Church  in  time  attacked 
the  paternalism  of  the  State,  and  the  doctrine  of  political  non- 
interference became  the  ideal  of  the  individualist.  The  same 
spirit  found  expression  in  the  economic  sphere:  slavery,  serf- 
dom, and  the  old  guild  system  gradually  disappeared,  the  indi- 
vidual threw  off  his  fetters,  and  demanded  to  be  let  alone  (laisser 
faire)  in  working  out  his  economic  salvation. 

We  are  confronted  with  the  same  phenomenon  in  the  empire 
of  the  intellect,  with  the  same  antagonism  to  tutelage,  the  same 
demand  for  a  free  field.  Reason  becomes  the  authority  in  science 
and  philosophy.  As  we  pointed  out  before,  the  notion  begins 
to  prevail  that  truth  is  not  something  to  be  handed  down  by 
authority  or  decreed  by  papal  bulls,  but  something  to  be  acquired, 
something  to  be  achieved  by  free  and  impartial  inquiry.  And 
the  gaze  is  turned  from  the  contemplation  of  supernatural  things 
to  the  examination  of  natural  things,  from  heaven  to  earth, — 

250 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY          251 

theology  yields  her  crown  to  science  and  philosophy.  The 
physical  and  the  mental  world,  society,  human  institutions,  and 
religion  itself  are  explained  by  natural  causes.  What  charac- 
terizes the  higher  intellectual  life  of  the  period  following  the 
Middle  Ages  is  an  abiding  faith  in  the  power  of  human  rea- 
son, an  intense  interest  in  natural  things,  a  lively  yearning 
for  civilization  and  progress.  Knowledge,  however,  let  it  be 
noted,  is  esteemed  and  desired  not  only  for  its  own  sake, 
but  also  for  its  utility,  for  its  practical  value:  knowledge  is 
power.  Nearly  all  the  great  leaders  of  modern  thought,  from 
Francis  Bacon  onward,  are  interested  in  the  practical  applica- 
tions of  the  results  of  scientific  investigation,  and  look  for- 
ward with  an  enthusiastic  optimism  to  a  coming  era  of 
wonderful  achievement  in  the  mechanic  arts,  technology,  medi- 
cine, as  well  as  in  the  field  of  political  and  social  reform. 

The  individual  likewise  throws  off  the  yoke  of  the  Church 
in  religion  and  morals;  the  appeal  to  reason  in  matters  of  the 
intellect  is  matched  by  an  appeal  to  faith  and  the  conscience 
in  matters  of  belief  and  conduct;  he  refuses  to  accept  an  inter- 
mediary between  himself  and  his  God.  However  Luther  may 
have  differed  from  the  leaders  of  the  Renaissance,  the  influence 
of  the  Reformation  eventually  helped  to  quicken  the  spirit  of 
religious,  moral,  and  intellectual  independence  and  contributed 
its  share  to  the  emancipation  of  the  human  soul  from  external 
authority. 

Modern  philosophy,  in  its  beginnings,  breathes  the  spirit  of 
the  modern  times,  the  characteristics  of  which  we  have  endeav- 
ored to  describe.  It  is  independent  in  its  search  for  truth,  re- 
sembling ancient  Greek  thought  in  this  respect.  It  is  rational- 
istic in  the  sense  that  it  makes  human  reason  the  highest  author- 
ity in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge.  It  is  naturalistic  in  that  it 
seeks  to  explain  inner  and  outer  nature  without  supernatural 
presuppositions.  It  is,  therefore,  scientific,  keeping  in  touch 
with  the  new  sciences,  particularly  with  the  sciences  of  external 
nature. 

It  is  to  be  remembered,  however,  that  although  modern  phi- 
losophy arose  as  a  protest  against  the  old  scholastic  system,  it 
did  not,  and  could  not,  completely  break  with  the  past.  Traces 
of  the  scholastic  philosophy  remain  in  its  blood  for  a  long  time 


252  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

to  come.  The  early  modern  thinkers  constantly  criticize  the 
scholastic  method,  but  many  of  the  old  conceptions  are  bodily 
taken  over  by  them,  and  influence  both  their  problems  and  their 
results.  The  theological  bias  is  not  entirely  absent:  Bacon, 
Descartes,  Locke,  Berkeley,  and  Leibniz  all  accept  the  basal 
doctrines  of  Christianity.  It  is  true,  we  are  not  always  able  to 
judge  the  candor  of  their  protestations,  but  even  insincerity  in 
this  regard  would  be  a  proof  of  the  theological  influence. 

Besides  the  works  mentioned  on  pp.  4,  f .,  and  p.  228,  consult :  Royct, 
The  Spirit  of  Modern  Philosophy;  Falekenberg,  History  of  Modern 
Philosophy,  transl.  by  Armstrong;  Hoffding,  Brief  History  of  Modern 
Philosophy,  transl.  by  Sanders,  and  History  of  Modern  Philosophy, 
2  vols.,  transl.  by  Meyer;  Calkins,  Persistent  Problems  of  Philosophy; 
Adamson,  Development  of  Modern  Philosophy;  Fischer,  History  of 
Modern  Philosophy,  10  vols.,  parts  transl.  by  Gordy,  Mahaffy,  and 
Hough;  Windelband,  Geschichte  der  neuern  Philosophic,  2  vols.;  Zeller, 
Geschichte  der  deutschen  Philosophic  seit  Leibniz;  Reininger,  Phi- 
losophie  des  Erkennens;  Merz,  History  of  European  Thought  in  the 
Nineteenth  Century,  3  vols. 

Special  works:  Kronenberg,  Geschichte  des  Idealismus,  3  vols.; 
Lasswitz,  Geschichte  der  Atomistik,  2  vols.;  Mabilleau,  Histoire 
d'atomisme;  Baumann,  Die  Lehren  von  Raum,  Zeit  und  Mathematik, 
2  vols. ;  Schaller,  Geschichte  der  Naturphilosophie;  Konig,  Entwicklung 
des  Kausalproblems,  3  parts;  Foster,  History  of  Physiology;  Cassirer, 
Das  Erkenntnisproblem  in  der  Philosophic  und  Wissenschaft  in  der 
neuern  Zeit,  5  vols.;  Grimm,  Geschichte  des  Erkenntnisproblems;  Vor- 
lander,  Geschichte  der  philosophischen  Moral,  Eechts-  und  Staatslehre; 
Jodl,  Geschichte  der  Ethik,  2  vols.;  Dunning,  Political  Theories  from 
Luther  to  Montesquieu;  Troeltsch,  Sozialleliren  der  christlichen 
Kirchen;  Pfleiderer,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  transl.  by  Stewart  and 
Menzies,  4  vols.;  Piinjer,  History  of  Christian  Philosophy  of  Religion, 
2  vols.,  transl.  by  Hastie;  Lecky,  History  of  the  Rise  and  Influence 
of  the  Spirit  of  Rationalism  in  Europe;  histories  of  civilization  by 
Buckle,  Draper,  Dean,  Crozier.  See  also  Cambridge  Modern  History, 
the  Britannica,  and  other  encyclopedias.  Selections  from  works  of 
philosophers  by  Rand. 

Modern  philosophies  have  been  classified  as  rationalistic  or 
empiristic  according  as  they  accept  reason    (ratio)   or  experi- 
ence   (ep.7teipia)    as    the    source    and    norm    of 
Empiricism      knowledge.     To  avoid  misapprehension,   however, 
Rationalism      several  points  should  be  emphasized.     (1)  By  ra- 
tionalism we  may  mean  the  attitude  which  makes 
reason  instead  of  revelation  or  authority  the  standard  of  knowl- 
edge.    In   this   sense,    all   modern  systems   of   philosophy   are 
rationalistic;  indeed,  it  is  this  characteristic  which  enables  ns 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY          253 

to  classify  them  as  modern.  It  is  true,  world-views  are  not  want- 
ing which  seek  the  source  of  truth  not  in  the  intellect,  but  in 
feeling,  faith,  or  intuition,  but  these  faith-  or  feeling-philoso- 
phies, too,  endeavor  to  construct  theories  which  shall  justify  their 
methods  of  reaching  the  truth  and  the  objects  of  their  faith  to 
reason.  (2)  We  may  mean  by  rationalism  the  view  that  genuine 
knowledge  consists  of  universal  and  necessary  judgments,  that 
the  goal  of  thought  is  a  system  of  truths  in  which  the  dif- 
ferent propositions  are  logically  related  to  one  another.  This 
is  the  mathematical  notion  of  knowledge  which  is  accepted  by 
nearly  all  the  new  thinkers  as  the  ideal;  whether  they  believe 
in  the  possibility  of  realizing  it  or  not,  they  consider  only  such 
knowledge  genuine  as  conforms  to  the  mathematical  model.  (3) 
The  question  is  also  asked  concerning  the  origin  of  knowledge, 
and  this  receives  different  answers  in  modern  philosophy:  (a) 
Genuine  knowledge  cannot  come  from  sense-perception  or 
experience,  but  must  have  its  foundation  in  thought  or  reason: 
there  are  truths  natural  or  native  to  reason:  innate  or  inborn 
or  a  priori  truths.  Truths  which  have  their  origin  in  the  mind 
itself  are  valid  truths.  This  view,  too,  has  been  called  ration- 
alism; though  some  writers  prefer  to  name  it  intuitionalism  or 
apriorism.  (b)  There  are  no  inborn  truths :  all  knowledge  springs 
from  sense-perception  or  experience,  and  hence  so-called  neces- 
sary propositions  are  not  necessary  or  absolutely  certain  at  all, 
but  yield  only  probable  knowledge.  This  view  has  been  called 
empiricism  or  sensationalism. 

Empiricists  may  accept  rationalism  in  the  first  and  second 
senses ;  they  may  consider  only  such  knowledge  genuine  as  gives 
us  absolute  certainty,  and,  at  the  same  time,  deny  the  possi- 
bility of  attaining  real  knowledge  except  perhaps  in  mathe- 
matics. If  by  empiricism  is  meant  that  our  world  of  experi- 
ence is  the  object  of  philosophy,  that  philosophy  has  to  interpret 
the  world  of  experience,  then  all  modern  philosophy  is  empirical. 
If  we  mean  by  it  that  we  cannot  know  without  experience,  that 
pure  thought,  or  thought  absolutely  independent  of  sense- 
perception,  is  impossible,  then,  again,  modern  philosophy  is 
largely  empirical. 

Keeping  all  this  in  mind,  we  may  characterize  philosophers 
as  rationalists  (apriorists)  or  empiricists  (sensationalists)  ac- 


254.  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

cording  to  the  answers  they  give  to  the  question  of  the  origin 
of  knowledge.  With  these  answers  they  generally  connect  their 
answers  to  the  question  of  the  certainty  or  validity  of  knowl- 
edge. Both  schools  of  early  modern  times  agree  that  sense- 
knowledge  is  not  absolutely  certain;  rationalists  declare  that 
only  rational  or  a  priori  truths,  clearly  and  distinctly  perceived 
truths,  are  certain;  empiricists  generally  deny  that  there  are 
such  a  priori  truths,  and  hold  that  clearly  and  distinctly  per- 
ceived truths  are  not  necessarily  certain.  We  may,  therefore, 
classify  Descartes,  Spinoza,  Malebranche,  Leibniz,  and  Wolff  as 
\  rationalists;  Bacon,  Hobbes,  Locke,  Berkeley,  and  Hume  as  em- 
piricists. The  rationalists  are  the  descendants  of  Plato,  Aris- 
totle, and  the  schoolmen  in  their  general  theory  of  knowledge; 
the  empiricists  are  the  continuers  of  the  nominalistic  traditions. 
It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  these  thinkers  are  not 
always  consistent  in  carrying  out  their  doctrines;  we  shall  be 
guided  in  our  rough  classification  by  their  general  attitude  to- 
ward the  problem  of  the  origin  of  knowledge. 

Besides  these  movements,  we  find  also  the  customary  accom- 
paniments with  which  we  have  become  acquainted  in  medieval 
philosophy:  skepticism  and  mysticism  (faith-philosophy),  both 
of  which  may  develop  from  the  soil  of  either  empiricism  or 
rationalism.  David  Hume's  skeptical  conclusions  may  be  re- 
garded as  the  result  of  certain  empirical  presuppositions  of 
Locke,  and  Pierre  Bayle's  as  the  application  of  the  rationalistic 
ideal  of  Descartes.  Mysticism  may  flourish  in  both  fields,  as  we 
have  seen;  many  of  the  medieval  nominalists  were  mystics,  and 
many  modern  mystics  build  upon  rationalistic  foundations.  In 
addition  to  all  these  currents,  the  old  scholastic  philosophy  has 
been  continued  by  Catholic  scholars. 


ENGLISH  EMPIRICISM 

Special  works  on  English  philosophy:  Sorley,  Beginnings  of 
English  Philosophy,  in  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature, 
vols.  IV,  ff. ;  Forsyth,  English  Philosophy;  J.  Seth,  English  Philos- 
ophers; Fischer,  Bacon  and  his  Successors,  transl.  by  Oxenford;  T.  H. 
Green,  Introduction  to  Hume,  in  vol.  I  of  Green  and  Grose  edition 
of  Hume's  works,  and  vol.  I  of  Green's  works;  McCosh,  Scottish 
Philosophy;  Pringle-Pattison,  On  Scottish  Philosophy;  Remusat,  His- 


FRANCIS  BACON  255 

toire  de  la  philosophic  en  Angleterre;  Lechler,  Geschichte  des  englischen 
Deismus;  L.  Stephen,  History  of  English  Thought  in  the  Eighteenth 
Century,  2  vols.,  English  Utilitarians,  and  Essays  on  Free  Thinking 
and  Plain  Speaking;  Lyon,  L'idealisme  anglais  au  XV  III.  siecle;  Albee, 
History  of  English  Utilitarianism;  Whewell,  History  of  Moral  Philoso- 
phy in  England;  Mackintosh,  Progress  of  Ethical  Philosophy,  etc.; 
Selby-Bigge,  British  Moralists  (selections  from  writings)  ;  Graham, 
English  Political  Philosophy  from  Hobbes  to  Maine;  Zart,  Einfluss 
der  englischen  Philosophic  seit  Bacon  auf  die  deutsche  Philosophic 
des  18.  Jahrhunderts.  Cf.  J.  M.  Robertson,  Pioneer  Humanists,  Short 
History  of  Free  Thought,  and  Evolution  of  States. 

43.    FRANCIS  BACON 

Francis  Bacon  is,  in  many  respects,  a  typical  representative 
of  the  new  movement.  He  is  opposed  to  the  ancient  authorities, 
to  Aristotle  and  Greek  philosophy  no  less  than  to 


the  barren  philosophy  of  the  School.     The  eye  of 


the  mind,  he  tells  us,  must  never  be  taken  off  from 
the  things  themselves,  but  receive  their  images  truly  as  they 
are.  The  past  has  done  nothing;  its  methods,  foundations,  and 
results  were  wrong;  we  must  begin  all  over  again,  free  our 
minds  of  transmitted  and  inherited  prejudices  and  opinions, 
go  to  the  things  themselves  instead  of  following  opinions  and 
dealing  in  words,  —  in  short,  do  our  own  thinking.  The  founda- 
tion is  natural  science,  the  method  induction,  and  the  goal  the 
art  of  invention.  The  reason  so  little  progress  has  been  made 
in  twenty-five  hundred  years,  is  that  the  right  methods  of  ac- 
quiring knowledge  have  not  been  followed.  Some  use  the  method 
of  demonstration,  but  they  start  from  principles  which  have 
been  hastily  formed  or  taken  on  trust  and  are  uncertain.  Others 
follow  the  way  of  sense,  but  the  senses,  left  to  themselves,  are 
faulty;  still  others  despair  of  all  knowledge,  but  this  attitude, 
too,  is  dogmatic  and  unsatisfactory.  We  must  begin  the  work 
anew  and  raise  or  rebuild  the  sciences,  arts,  and  all  human 
knowledge  from  a  firm  and  solid  basis.  This  is  the  Great 
Instauration. 

-  All  these  ideas  are  modern,  as  are  also  the  supreme  self- 
confidence  and  optimism  of  our  thinker.  The  very  failures  of 
the  past  inspire  him  with  the  hope  and  belief  that  an  era  of 
glorious  achievement  is  at  hand,  that  great  things  are  going 
to  happen,  that  with  the  abandonment  of  the  fruitless  science 


256  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

of  the  past  the  face  of  the  earth  and  of  society  will  be  changed. 
(See  his  New  Atlantis.)  The  practical  goal  is  constantly  em- 
phasized, "  the  end  always  to  be  kept  in  view  is  the  application 
of  the  truth  acquired  to  the  good  of  mankind." 

Bacon  did  not  advance  the  cause  of  natural  science  by  his 
own  experiments  nor,  indeed,  was  he  sufficiently  acquainted 
with  mathematics  to  appreciate  the  work  of  the  great  astronomers 
of  the  new  era.  And  it  can  hardly  be  said  that  his  theory  of 
method  exercised  an  influence  on  experimental  science ;  science 
was  too  far  along  for  that:  in  his  own  country  William  Gilbert 
(1540-1603),  the  well-known  author  of  the  book  De  magnet e, 
1600,  had  employed  the  inductive  method  in  his  researches  be- 
fore the  appearance  of  Bacon's  writings  on  the  subject.  He 
does,  however,  deserve  the  title  of  the  trumpeter  of  his  time, 
which  he  applied  to  himself,  for  he  gave  conscious  expression 
to  the  new  scientific  spirit.  He  understood  and  emphasized  the 
importance  of  systematic  and  methodical  observation  and  ex- 
perimentation in  natural  science ;  the  other  and  most  important 
phase  of  it,  mathematics,  he  mentions  and  considers  essential, 
but  fails  to  make  use  of  in  his  theory,  simply  because  he  does 
not  know  how. 

Francis  Bacon  (1561-1626)  devoted  himself  to  law  and  politics, 
although,  so  he  himself  tells  us,  his  chief  interests  lay  along  the  lines 
of  the  studies  to  which  he  gave  his  leisure  hours.  Important  offices 
and  high  honors  were  conferred  upon  him  by  Queen  Elizabeth  and 
King  James  I, — he  was  made  Baron  Verulam  and  Viscount  St.  Albans, 
and  became  Lord  Chancellor.  In  1621  he  was  accused  of  having 
accepted  gifts  from  litigants  in  his  official  capacity  as  a  judge,  an 
offense  which  he  confessed  but  which  he  declared  had  never  influenced 
his  decisions.  He  was  found  guilty,  sentenced  to  imprisonment,  heavily 
fined,  and  deprived  of  office,  but  received  the  king's  pardon,  and  retired 
to  private  life. 

Among  the  English  predecessors  of  Bacon  were:  Everard  Digby 
(+1592),  professor  of  logic  at  Cambridge,  who  aroused  an  interest  in 
the  study  of  philosophy  in  his  country.  His  Neoplatonic  doctrine, 
which  he  combined  with  Cabalism,  was  opposed  by  Sir  William  Temple 
(1553-1626),  who  followed  the  logic  of  Petrus  Ramus  and  antagonized 
Aristotle. 

Bacon's  celebrated  Essays  appeared  in  1597,  an  enlarged  edition 
in  1625;  the  Latin  translation  of  them  bears  the  title  Sermones  fideles. 
Among  his  other  works  are:  The  Advancement  of  Learning,  1605  (the 
Latin,  enlarged  and  revised  edition  being  entitled,  De  dignitate  et 
augmentis  scientiarum,  1623);  Cogitata  et  visa,  1612;  and  the  Novum 


FRANCIS  BACON  257 

Organum,  1620,  the  new  "  organon  "  or  instrument  of  knowledge,  which 
attacks  the  old  Aristotelian  logic  and  aims  at  a  reform  of  logic;  it 
is  written  in  aphorisms  and  is  incomplete. 

Complete  works,  in  Latin  and  English,  by  Spedding,  Ellis,  and 
Heath,  7  vols.,  2d  ed.,  1870;  reprint  of  philosophical  works,  1  vol., 
by  Robertson,  1905 ;  English  Works  by  S.  Lee,  1905 ;  numerous  eds.  of 
particular  works. 

Spedding,  Letters  and  Life,  and  Life  and  Times;  Church,  Bacon; 
E.  A.  Abbot,  Bacon;  Fowler,  Bacon;  Nichol,  Bacon;  S.  Lee,  Great 
Englishmen  of  the  Sixteenth  Century;  Heussler,  Bacon;  Wolff,  Bacon 
und  seine  Quellen.  '  XA-\ 


The  fruitlessness  of  science  and  ph4iostrpny~m  the  past,  Bacon 
thinks,  has  been  due  to  the  absence  of  a  proper  method.  The 
unassisted  hand  and  the  understanding  left  to  itself 
possess  but  little  power.  We  must  devise  a  new 
way  of  reaching  knowledge,  a  new  machine  or 
organ  for  the  mind,  a  new  logic,  a  novum  organum.  The  old 
logic  is  useless  for  the  discovery  of  the  sciences,  it  assists  in 
confirming  and  rendering  inveterate  the  errors  founded  on  vulgar 
notions  rather  than  in  seeking  after  truth. 

But  before  describing  the  method  in  detail,  our  reformer 
insists  that  the  mind  clear  itself  of  all  false  opinions,  prejudices, 
or  idols,  of  which  there  are  four  kinds.  The  idols  of  the  tribe 
(idola  tribus]  are  such  as  inhere  in  the  very  nature  of  the  human 
mind,  among  them  being  the  notion  of  final  causes  (teleology) 
and  the  habit  of  reading  human  desires  into  nature.  The  idols 
of  the  den  (specus]  are  peculiar  to  the  particular  individual, 
to  his  peculiar  disposition,  his  education  and  intercourse,  his 
reading,  the  authority  of  those  whom  he  admires,  and  the  like. 
The  idols  of  the  market  (/on)  are  the  most  troublesome  of 
all ;  they  come  from  the  associations  of  words  and  names.  Words 
are  often  used  as  names  of  things  which  have  no  existence,  or 
they  are  the  names  of  actual  objects,  but  confused,  badly  de- 
fined, and  hastily  abstracted  from  things.  The  idols  of  the 
theater  (theatri)  are  the  result  of  false  theories  or  philosophies 
and  the  perverted  laws  of  demonstration. 

Of  such  idols  the  mind  must  be  freed  and  cleared;  it  must 
approach  the  task  of  knowledge  pure  and  unadulterated.  The 
end  aimed  at,  let  it  be  remembered,  is  to  discover  principles 
themselves, — not  to  conquer  adversaries  by  words,  but  nature 
by  works.  We  cannot  realize  this  end  without  knowing  nature ; 


258  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 


in  order  to  produce  effects,  we  should  know  causes.    Our  present 
syllogistic  methods  will  noj/avail;  our  present  sciences  are  but 
peculiar    arrangementk--or    matters    already    discovered.      The 
syllogism  consists  of  propositions,   propositions  of  words,   and 
/  words  are  signs  of  notions.    Hence,  if  the  notions  are  confused 
/    and  carelessly  abstracted  from  things, — and  that  is  the  case, — 
/     there  is  no  solidity  in  the  whole  superstructure.     The  notions, 
t     principles,  and  axioms  used  in  the  syllogism  are  all  based  on 
\  experience, — as  indeed  all  principles  or  axioms   are, — but   on 
vague  and  faulty  experience;  they  are  hasty   generalizations 
from  experience.     Our  hope,  then,  is  genuine  induction.     We 
must  continually  raise  up  propositions  by  degrees  and  in  the 
last  place  come  to  the  most  general  and  well-defined  axioms,  in 
an  orderly  and  methodical  way.    That  is,  we  must  combine  the 
experimental  and  the  rational  faculties. 

Induction  does  not  consist  in  simple  enumeration, — that  is 
a  childish  thing.  The  aim  of  human  knowledge  is  to  discover 
the  forms,  or  true  differences,  or  the  source  of  emanation,  of 
a  given  nature  or  quality.  By  form  Bacon  means  not  what  the 
realists  meant,  notflabstract  forms  or  ideas.  Matter  rather  than 
forms,  he  tells  us,  snould  be  the  object  of  our  attention ;  nothing 
exists  in  nature  besides  individual  bodies  which  act  according 
to  fixed  law.  In  philosophy  the  investigation,  discovery,  and 
explanation  of  this  very  law  is  the  foundation  as  well  of  knowl- 
edge as  of  operation.  This  law  he  calls  the  form,  a  term  which 
had  come  into  general  use;  Telesio,  whom  Bacon  mentions, 
speaks  of  heat  and  cold  as  active  forms  of  nature.  The  form 
of  heat  is  the  law  of  heat,  it  is  what  determines  or  regulates 
heat  wherever  heat  is  found,  it  is  what  heat  depends  on.  Who- 
ever knows  the  forms,  understands  the  unity  of  nature  in  sub- 
stances most  unlike;  he  knows  what  in  nature  is  constant  and 
eternal  and  universal,  and  opens  broad  roads  to  human  power 
such  as  human  thought  can  scarcely  comprehend  or  anticipate. 
Bacon  declares  that  the  form  or  substantial  self  of  heat  is  motion, 
it  is  the  motion  of  the  small  particles  of  the  body.  The  in- 
vestigation of  forms  (causes)  which  are  eternal  and  immutable 
constitutes  metaphysics;  the  investigation  of  efficient  cause  and 
matter,  and  of  the  latent  process,  and  latent  configurations, 
constitutes  physics.  The  application  of  the  knowledge  of  forms 


FRANCIS  BACON 


259 


or  fundamental  laws  of  nature  leads^to  the  highest  kind  of 
invention.  Bacon  calls  it  magic,  it  is  ^r^ctical  metaphysics. 
(Bacon  is  evidently  thinking  of  thejirt  of  matin^ol  The 
application  of  knowl 


s 


The  jnos/'  important  caused  or  la^s,  then,)wh|ch  sconce  has 
to  dis^ovp    are    iorms,    and )  these/  are  JpundV  by    induction. 

(1)  Ttieftoii  oj^natu^er^qtiaiity  (heat,  forj^xample)  is  such 
that,  giw»iiOerm7the  quality  infallibly  fellows.    It  is,  there- 
fore, always  present  when  the  cftrality~is  present,  and  universally 
implies  it,  and  is  constantly  inherent  in  it.     (2)  Again,  the  form 
is  such  that  if  it  be  taken  away,  the  quality  infallibly  vanishes. 
Hence,  it  is  always  absent  when  the  quality  is  absent,  and  implies 
its  absence,  and  inheres  in  nothing  else.     (3)   Lastly,  the  true 
form  is  such  that  it  deduces  the  given  quality  from  some  source 
of  being  which  is  inherent  in  more  qualities,  and  which  is  better 
known  in  the  natural  order  of  things  than  the  form  itself.    All 
this  gives  us  the  clue  to  our  method  of  procedure.     ( 1 )  A  quality 
being  given,  we  must,  first,  consider  all  the  known  instances 
which  agree  in  the  same  quality  though  in  substances  the  most 
unlike  (the  so-called  positive  instances).     This  is  the  Table  of 
Essence  or  Presence  (called  by  Mill  the  Method  of  Agreement). 

(2)  Then  we  must  review  the  instances  in  which  the  given  quality 
is  wanting    (the  so-called  negative  instances).     The  negatives 
should  be  subjoined  to  the  affirmatives,  and  the  absence  of  the 
given  quality  inquired  of  in  those  subjects  only  that  are  most 
akin  to  the  others  in  which  it  is  present  and  forthcoming.    This 
Bacon  calls  the  Table  of  Deviation  or  of  Absence  in  Proximity. 
It  is  Mill's  Method  of  Difference.     (3)  Then  we  take  the  cases 
in  which  the  object  of  our  inquiry  is  present  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree,  either  by  comparing  its  increase  and  decrease  in 
the  same  object,  or  its  degree  in  different  objects.     This  is  the 
Table  of  Degrees  or  Comparative  Instances,  called  by  Mill  the 
Method  of   Concomitant   Variations.     Bacon  mentions   eleven 
other  helps  to  the  mind  in  discovering  forms,  each  of  which 
has  its  name :  rejection,  first  vintage,  prerogative  instances,  etc., 
but  works  out  only  three. 

Bacon  held  that  mankind  must  begin  the  work  of  science  anew. 
It  was  natural,  under  the  circumstances,  that  he  did  not  offer 


260  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

a  complete  theory  of  the  universe  himself;  his  office  was  to 
stake  out  the  ground  and  to  point  the  way  to  new  achievements. 

To  this  end  he  planned  his  great  work,  or  In- 
Philoso^h  stauratio  magna,  consisting  of  six  parts,  only  two 

of  which  were  completed :  the  Encyclopedia  or  Ad- 
vancement of  Learning  and  the  Novum  Organum.  He  divides 
the  field  of  knowledge,  or  *  *  the  intellectual  globe, ' '  into  history, 
poesy,  and  philosophy,  according  to  the  faculties  of  the  mind 
(memory,  imagination,  and  reason),  and  subdivides  each  into 
numerous  specialistic  branches. 

Philosophy  is  the  work  of  reason ;  it  deals  with  abstract  notions 
derived  from  impressions  of  sense;  and  in  the  composition  and 
division  of  these  notions,  according  to  the  law  of  nature  and  fact, 
its  business  lies.  It  embraces :  primary  philosophy,  revealed  the- 
ology, natural  theology,  metaphysics,  physics,  mechanics,  magic, 
mathematics,  psychology,  and  ethics.  Primary  philosophy  busies 
itself  with  the  axioms  common  to  several  sciences,  with  what  we 
should  now  call  laws  of  thought  and  categories.  Metaphysics  has 
two  functions:  to  discover  the  eternal  and  immutable  forms  of 
bodies  and  to  discuss  purposes,  ends,  or  final  causes.  Final  causes 
have  no  place  in  physics ;  Democritus  never  wasted  any  time  on 
them,  hence,  Bacon  declares,  he  penetrates  farther  into  nature 
than  Plato  and  Aristotle,  who  were  ever  inculcating  them.  The 
doctrine  of  final  causes  has  no  practical  value,  but  is  a  barren 
thing,  or  as  a  virgin  consecrated  to  God.  Mathematics  is  a  branch 
of  metaphysics, — being  a  science  of  quantity,  which  is  one  of  the 
essential,  most  abstract,  and  separable  forms  of  matter.  Mathe- 
matics and  logic  both  ought  to  be  handmaids  of  physics,  but 
instead  they  have  come  to  domineer  over  physics.  Mathematics 
is  of  great  importance  to  metaphysics,  mechanics,  and  magic. 

The  philosophy  of  man  comprises  human  and  civil,  or  political, 
philosophy.  In  the  former  we  consider  man  separate,  in  the 

latter  joined  in  society.  Human  philosophy  studies 
of  AIanP  y  body  and  soul,  and  their  connection.  Among  its 

topics  are  the  miseries  and  the  prerogatives  or 
excellencies  of  the  human  race,  physiognomy  and  the  interpreta- 
tion of  natural  dreams,  the  effect  of  bodily  states  on  mind 
(madness,  insanity)  and  the  influence  of  mind  on  body,  the 
proper  seat  and  habitation  of  each  faculty  of  the  mind  in  the 


FRANCIS  BACON  261 

body  and  its  organs,  also  "  medicine,  cosmetic,  athletic,  and 
voluptuary. ' ' 

The  human  soul  has  a  divine  or  rational  part  and  an  irrational 
part.  All  problems  relating  to  the  former  must  be  handed  over 
to  religion.  The  sensitive  or  produced  soul  is  corporeal,  attenu- 
ated by  heat  and  rendered  invisible,  and  resides  chiefly  in  the 
head  (in  perfect  animals),  running  along  the  nerves  and  re- 
freshed and  repaired  by  the  spirituous  blood  of  the  arteries. 
The  faculties  of  the  soul  are  understanding,  reason,  imagination, 
memory,  appetite,  will,  and  all  those  with  which  logic  and 
ethics  are  concerned.  The  origins  of  these  faculties  must  be 
physically  treated.  The  questions  of  voluntary  motion  and 
sensibility  are  interesting.  How  can  so  minute  and  subtle  a 
breath  as  the  (material)  soul  put  in  motion  bodies  so  gross  and 
hard?  What  is  the  difference  between  perception  and  sense? 
Bacon  finds  a  manifest  power  of  perception  in  most  bodies,  and 
a  kind  of  appetite  to  choose  what  is  agreeable,  and  to  avoid 
what  is  disagreeable  to  them  (the  loadstone  attracts  iron,  one 
drop  of  water  runs  into  another).  A  body  feels  the  impulse 
of  another  body,  perceives  the  removal  of  any  body  that  with- 
held it;  perception  is  diffused  through  all  nature.  But  how 
far,  he  inquires,  can  perception  be  caused  without  sense  (con- 
sciousness) ?  We  see  how  hard  it  was  for  the  new  thinker  to 
get  the  old  medieval  notions  of  an  animated  nature  out  of  his 
bones. 

Logic  treats  of  the  understanding  and  reason;  and  ethics, 
of  the  will,  appetite,  and  affections;  the  one  produces  resolu- 
tions, the  other  actions.  The  logical  arts  are  inquiry  or  invention, 
examination  or  judgment,  custody  or  memory,  elocution  or  de- 
livery. The  study  of  induction  belongs  to  the  art  of  judgment. 
Ethics  describes  the  nature  of  the  good  and  prescribes  rules 
for  conforming  to  it.  Man  is  prompted  by  selfish  and  social 
impulses  (as  later  writers  called  them).  Individual  or  self 
good,  self-preservation  and  defense,  differs  entirely  from  the 
social  good,  though  they  may  sometimes  coincide.  The  social 
good  is  called  duty.  It  is  the  business  of  the  science  of  govern- 
ment to  discover  the  fountains  of  justice  and  public  good. 

Philosophy,  in  the  broad  sense,  is  the  apex  of  the  pyramid  of 
knowledge.  It  is  founded  on  the  just,  pure,  and  strict  inquiry  of 


264  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

practical  utility  of  science  or  philosophy:  the  end  of  knowledge 
is  power.     He  denies  completely  the  scientific  character  of  the- 
ology: there  can  be  no  science  of  God,  no  doctrine 
Method  °^  an^e^s-    ^e  a^so  repudiates  the  spiritualistic  no- 

tion of  the  soul,  which  is  a  fundamental  thought  with 
his  contemporary  Descartes  and  which  Bacon  had  introduced  into 
his  physiological  psychology  as  a  kind  of  appendage.  He  accepts, 
instead,  the  new  natural  science  of  Copernicus,  Galileo,  and 
Harvey,  whom  he  regards  as  the  founders  of  science,  and  fear- 
lessly deduces  the  consequences  of  the  mechanical  theory  in  his 
materialistic  philosophy.  Himself  a  student  of  mathematics, 
Hobbes  looks  upon  the  method  of  geometry  as  the  only  one 
capable  of  giving  us  sure  and  universal  knowledge ;  hence,  natural 
and  political  history  are  not  sciences:  such  knowledge  is  but 
experience,  not  ratiocination.  His  rationalistic  ideal  of  knowl- 
edge agrees  with  that  of  Galileo  and  Descartes,  but  he  is,  like 
Bacon,  an  empiricist  in  his  theory  of  the  origin  of  knowledge. 
He  finds  it  difficult,  however,  to  reconcile  his  rationalism  with 
his  empiricism;  the  presence  of  both  factors  in  the  system  is 
responsible  for  many  inconsistencies  and  uncertainties.  As  his 
own  chief  contribution  to  thought,  he  himself  regards  his  theory 
of  the  State;  civil  philosophy,  he  proudly  tells  us,  is  no  older 
than  his  book  De  cive. 

Thomas  Hobbes  (1588-1679)  studied  scholasticism  and  the  Aristo- 
telian philosophy  at  Oxford,  traveled  extensively  on  the  Continent 
as  the  tutor  and  companion  of  young  English  noblemen,  and  became 
acquainted,  in  Paris,  with  Descartes,  Gassendi,  and  Mersenne.  He 
fled  to  France  in  November  1640,  after  the  assembling  of  the  Long 
Parliament,  returning  in  1651  to  make  his  peace  with  Cromwell. 

Among  his  works  are:  Elementa  philosophica  de  cive,  1642;  De 
cor  pore,  1655;  De  homine,  1658;  Leviathan  (or  the  matter,  form,  and 
power  of  a  commonwealth,  ecclesiastical  and  civil),  1651;  Elements 
of  Law,  Natural  and  Politic  (consisting  of  Human  Nature  and  the  Body 
Politic;  written  1640),  ed.  by  Tonnies,  1888;  and  the  two  treatises  on 
Liberty  and  Necessity,  1646  and  1654. 

Works  edited  by  Molesworth,  1839-45,  five  Latin  and  eleven  English 
volumes.  Elements  of  Law,  Behemoth,  Letters,  ed.  by  Tonnies,  1888, 
1889;  Tonnies,  Hobbes-Analekten,  1904,  ff.  Selections  from  writings  by 
Woodbridge,  Sneath,  Rand,  Selby-Bigge.  Monographs  on  Hobbes  by 
G.  C.  Robertson,  L.  Stephen,  Tonnies,  Kohler,  Lyon,  Brandt. 

Philosophy,  according  to  Hobbes,  is  a  knowledge  of  effects  from 
their  causes  and  of  causes  from  their  effects;  its  method  is, 


THOMAS  HOBBES >  265 

therefore^artly  synthetic,  partly  analytic.     That  is,  we  may 
proceed  from  sense-perception  or  experience  to  principles  (analy- 
sis)  or  from  p/rimary  or  most  universal  proposi- 
tions, or  principles  which  are  manifest  in  them-   ^nTwled^e 
selves,  to  conclusions  (synthesis).    In  order  to  be 
genuine  science  oXtrue  demonstration,  reasoning  must  take  its 
beginning  from  true^principlea^mere  experience  not  being  Sci- 
ence.   Nominalist  that/he  is,  Hobbes  also  defines  reasoning  as  a 
kind  of  calculation:  tc§son  is  nothing  but  reckoning,  that  is, 
adding  and  subtracting  of  the  consequences  of  general  names 
agreed  upon,  for  the  marking  and  signifying  of  our  thoughts. 

The  problem,  therefore,  ia  to  find  a  first  principle,  a  starting- 
point  for  our  reasoning,  a  aause  on  which  to  ground  all  effects. 
This  Hobbes  finds  iiynotionl  Every  body  the  causes  and  effects 
of  which  we  can  know,  is  subject-matter  for  philosophy.  There 
are  natural  bodies  and  artificial  bodies,  or  the  commonwealth, 
a  body  made  by  man.  Hence,  we  have  natural  philosophy 
(physics  and  psychology)  and  political  philosophy,  which  is 
made  up  of  ethics  and  politics  proper.  Primary  or  first  philos- 
ophy is  a  science  of  the  fundamental  principles  or  definitions 
of  all  Science;  it  is  a  kind  of  prelude  to  the  other  branches, 
treating  of  space,  time,  body,  cause,  effect,  identity  and  differ- 
ence, relation,  quantity,  and  the  like.  .By  analyzing  particular 
things  we  ultimately  reach  their  most  universal  properties  and 
at  once  know  their  causes,  since  these  are  manifest  of  themselves, 
all  having  but  one  universal  cause,  motion.  The  last  things 
cannot  be  demonstrated  till  the  first  are  fully  understood. 
Hence,  philosophy  is  the  science  of  the  motions  and  actions  of 
natural  and  political  bodies,  and  everything  can  be  explained 
by  motion,  or  mechanically :  the  nature  of  man,  the  mental  world, 
and  the  State,  as  well  as  the  occurrences  of  physical  nature. 

Whence  do  these  principles  arise,  how  does  our  knowledge 
originate  ?  The  _priginal  of  all  our  thoughts  is  sense.  Sensations 
persist  or  are  retained  in  memory  (a  "  decaying  sense  ").  The 
memory  of  many  things  is  experience.  Images  or  thoughts  suc- 
ceed one  another  in  the  mind,  and  we  have  a  train  of  thoughts, 
which  can  be  regulated  by  desire  and  design.  The  purpose  of 
speech  is  to  transfer  our  mental  discourse  into  trains  of  words, 
which  helps  us  to  register  our  thoughts  as  well  as  to  communicate 


266  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

them  to  others.  In  the  right  definition  of  names  lies  the  first 
use  of  speech,  which  is  the  acquisition  of  Science.  In  Science 
we  use  universal  terms,  but  the  things  themselves  are  not 
universal^  there  is  nothing  called  man  in  general  (nominalism). 
Hence,  neither  knowledge  of  fact  nor  knowledge  of  consequence 
is  absolute,  but  conditional. 

Whereas  Bacon  emphasizes  the  part  played  by  experience  or 
induction,  Hobbes  shows  the  need  of  demonstration  or  the  de- 
ductive method.  But  holding,  as  he  does,  that  the  principles 
from  which  we  reason  have  their  source  in  sense,  he  loses  his 
firm  faith  in  the  possibility  of  any  method  to  reach  absolute 
knowledge.  Locke  later  on  strengthens  these  doubts  by  declaring 
that  we  can  have  no  science  of  bodies  at  all. 

Knowledge,  then,  has  its  origin  in  sense-impressions.  Now, 
what  is  sensation  and  how  is  it  caused?  We  get  through  our 
sense-organs  different  sensations :  color,  sound,  taste,  smell,  touch. 
These  processes  are  caused  by  the  action  of  some  external  object 
on  the  organs  of  sense.  Motion  is  produced  in  the  organ  and 
carried  over  nerves  into  the  brain  and  thence  into  the  heart. 
There  a  reaction  ensues  (an  endeavor  outward)  which  makes  it 
appear  that  there  is  some  outward  object.  The  sensations,  Jhen, 
are  nothing  but  motions  in  the  brain,  or  spirits,  or  some  internal 
substance  of  the  head.  The  sensation  or  image  or  color  is  but 
an  appearance,  an  apparition  unto  us  of  the  motion,  agitation, 
or  alteration  which  the  object  worketh  in  the  brain.  Sensations 
are  not  qualities  of  things  themselves;  they  are  but  motions  in 
us.  Now,  since  only  motion  can  produce  motion,  there  can  be 
nothing  outside  except  motion.  All  sense  is  fancy,  but  the  cause 
is  a  real  body.  There  is  no  similarity  between  the  cause  of  the 
k  sensation  and  the  sensation  or  appearance.  The  reality  outside 
is  a  moving  reality;  we  perceive  it  as  color  or  sound.  Our 
1$  picture  of  the  world  obtained  through  sense  is  not  the  real 
world. 

If  this  is  true,  how  do  we  know  what  is  the  nature  of  the 
world?  Hobbes  does  not  answer;  the  problem  did  not  disturb 
him;  he  dogmatically  assumes  with  the  scientists  of  his  day 
that  the  world  is  a  corporeal  world  in  motion.  As  we  shall  see 
later,  Descartes  attempted  to  prove  the  existence  of  an  extended 
moving:  reality  deductively,  from  the  self-certainty  of  conscious- 


THOMAS  HOBBES  267 

ness,  but  the  English  empiricist  was  not  troubled  by  skeptical 
doubts  with  respect  to  things-in-themselves. 

A  real  world  of  bodies  in  space  exists;  there  is  real  space 
besides  imaginary  space,  or  the  idea  of  space  produced  by  the 
object;  the  real  magnitude  of  a  body  causes  the  M 
idea  or  phantasm  of  space  in  the  mind;  in  this 
sense  imagined  space  is  an  accident  of  the  mind.  No  body  can 
be  conceived  without  the  accident  of  extension  and  figure;  all 
other  accidents, — rest,  motion,  color,  hardness,  and  the  like, — 
continually  perish  and  are  succeeded  by  others,  yet  so  that 
the  body  never  perishes.  Motion  is  defined  as  a  continuous  re- 
linquishing of  one  place  and  acquiring  another.  Motion  can  have 
no  other  cause  than  motion.  When  one  motion  produces  another, 
that  does  not  mean  one  accident  goes  out  of  one  object  into 
another,  it  means  that  one  accident  perishes  and  another  is 
generated.  A  body  is  said  to  act  or  work  on,  that  is  to  say,  do 
something  to,  another  body,  when  it  either  generates  or  destroys 
some  accident  in  it.  This  is  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect. 
The  efficient  cause  of  all  change  and  motion  is  motion.  Power 
is  not  a  certain  accident  that  differs  from  all  acts,  it  is  called 
power  because  another  act  shall  be  caused  by  it  afterward.  The 
question  of  the  beginning  of  motion  cannot  be  answered  by 
philosophers,  but  by  "  those  that  are  lawfully  authorized  to 
order  the  worship  of  God."  At  the  creation,  God  gave  to  all 
things  what  natural  and  special  motion  he  thought  good. 

There  are  not,  as  the  schoolmen  held,  any  incorporeal  sub- 
stances or  spirits  in  addition  to  bodies.  Substance  and  body 
are  the  same  thing,  hence  to  speak  of  incorporeal  substances  is 
to  speak  of  incorporeal  bodies,  which  is  a  contradiction  in  terms 
or  an  absurdity  of  speech.  Besides,  if  there  were  spirits  or  souls, 
we  could  not  know  them,  for  all  our  knowledge  is  based  on 
sensation,  and  spirits  are  not  supposed  to  work  on  sense.  The 
Bible  does  not  teach  that  there  is  an  incorporeal  or  immaterial 
soul.  Indeed,  it  rather  favors  those  most  who  hold  angels  and 
spirits  to  be  corporeal.  God  himself,  Hobbes  is  inclined  to  think, 
is  body  or  a  corporeal  being.  That  there  is  a  God  we  know 
and  can  prove  in  the  causal  way,  but  what  he  is  we  do  not 
know. 

Hobbes   offers  various  conceptions  of  the   mind.     Mind   is 


268  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

motion  in  the  brain,  or  it  is  an  internal  substance  in  the  head, 
a  subtle  body.  Images  or  ideas  are  motions  in  the  brain  and 
heart,  motions  of  a  material  substance.  This  is  thor- 
oughgoing  materialism.  But  when  he  speaks  of 
mental  processes  as  appearances  or  apparitions  of  motions,  as 
accidents  of  the  mind,  but  "  not  like  motions,"  he  modifies  his 
materialism :  states  of  consciousness  here  are  no  longer  motions, 
but  the  effects  of  motions.  Such  a  view  is  called  by  modern 
writers  epiphenomenalism :  consciousness  is  an  after-appearance. 

Besides  the  faculty  or  power  of  knowing,  there  is  a  motive 
power,  the  power  by  which  the  mind  gives  animal  motion  to 
its  body.  Motion  proceeds  from  the  head  to  the  heart;  when 
it  helps  the  vital  motion  there,  it  is  delight  or  pleasure,  when  it 
hinders  it,  it  is  pain.  Pleasure  and  pain  arouse  appetite,  or  de- 
sire, and  aversion:  appetite  is  an  endeavor  toward,  aversion  an 
endeavor  fromward  something.  Some  appetites  and  aversions 
are  born  with  us  (appetite  for  food),  the  rest  proceed  from  ex- 
perience. 

What  pleases  a  man  he  calls  good,  what  displeases  him,  evil. 
Men  differ  in  constitution  and,  therefore,  concerning  the  com- 
mon distinction  of  good  and  evil.  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
absolute  goodness,  it  is  always  relative;  even  God's  goodness 
is  goodness  to  us.  All  delight  or  pleasure  is  appetite,  hence 
there  can  be  no  contentment  but  in  proceeding  or  progress. 
Felicity  or  continued  happiness  consists  not  in  having  prospered, 
but  in  prospering. 

The  imagination  is  the  first  beginning  of  all  voluntary  motion. 
The  alternate  succession  of  appetite  and  aversion  is  called  de- 
liberation; in  deliberation  the  last  appetite  or  the  last  aversion 
is  called  will:  will  to  do  and  will  not  to  do,  or  to  omit.  All 
other  appetites  to  do  and  to  quit  are  called  intentions  and 
inclinations,  but  not  wills.  Will  in  man  is  not  different  from 
will  in  other  animals.  The  causes  of  our  appetites  and  aversions 
are,  therefore,  also  the  causes  of  our  will.  Our  will  is  the  effect 
of  sense,  memory,  understanding,  reason,  and  opinion.  The  will, 
and  each  inclination  during  deliberation,  is  as  much  necessi- 
tated and  dependent  on  a  sufficient  cause  as  any  event  whatever. 
The  will  is  not  free  but  caused;  to  call  an  agent  free  means  he 
has  made  an  end  of  deliberating.  A  free  agent  is  one  who  can 


THOMAS  HOBBES  269 

do  if  he  will,  and  forbear  if  he  will;  liberty  is  the  absence  of 
external  impediments.  A  man  is  free  to  act,  but  not  free  to 
will  as  he  wills,  he  cannot  will  to  will.  To  say  I  can  will  if  I 
will,  is  absurd. 

Now  that  we  know  the  nature  of  man,  we  are  ready  to  under- 
stand the  meaning  of  the  State  and  law.  We  may  study  civil 
and  moral  philosophy  synthetically,  that  is,  begin  . 

with  principles,  say,  the  knowledge  of  human 
motives  (motions  of  the  mind),  and  deduce  from  them  tha 
necessity  of  establishing  a  commonwealth  and  rights  and  duties. 
We  can,  however,  also  reach  the  principles  analytically,  by 
induction,  or  by  observing  the  motives  in  oneself.  It  is  right 
and  reasonable  for  a  man  to  use  all  means  and  do  whatever 
is  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  his  body.  He,  therefore, 
has  by  nature  the  right  to  all  things,  to  do  whatever  he  pleases 
to  whom  he  pleases,  to  possess,  use,  and  enjoy  all  things  he  can. 
Nature  has  given  all  things  to  all  men,  hence  right  and  profit 
(jus  and  utile)  are  the  same  thing.  But  in  a  state  of  nature, 
where  every  man  is  striving  for  such  power,  where  it  is  right 
for  every  man  to  invade  another  man's  right  and  to  resist  in- 
vasion of  his  own,  there  will  be  a  state  of  perpetual  war  of  all 
against  all  (bellum  omnium  contra  omnes).  In  such  a  state  of 
war  nothing  can  be  unjust;  the  notions  of  right  and  wrong, 
justice  and  injustice  have  there  no  place.  Where  there  is  no 
common  power,  there  is  no  law;  where  no  law,  no  injustice. 
Force  and  fraud  are  in  war  the  cardinal  virtues;  justice  and 
injustice  are  qualities  that  relate  to  men  in  society,  not  in  soli- 
tude. Aristotle  had  taught  that  man  is  a  social  animal,  that 
the  social  instinct  leads  him  to  form  societies.  This  Hobbes 
denies:  man  is  a  ferocious  animal:  homo  homini  lupus;  com- 
petition of  riches,  honor,  command,  or  other  power,  inclines 
to  contention,  enmity,  and  war,  because  the  way  of  one  com- 
petitor to  the  attaining  of  his  desire  is  to  kill,  subdue,  supplant, 
or  repel  the  other.  In  such  a  state  of  hostility  and  war,  no 
man  can  hope  for  sufficient  might  to  preserve  himself  for  any 
time.  Consequently,  his  desire  for  power  defeats  itself,  it  cre- 
ite  in  which  the  very  end  he  aims  at  is  thwarted.  And 
tice  and  injury  is  something  like  an  absurdity:  volun- 
tarily to  undo  that  which  from  the  beginning  he  has  voluntarily 


270  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

done.  Nevertheless,  although  injustice  is  illogical  or  irrational, 
Hobbes  is  not  optimistic  enough  to  believe  that  man  is  ruled  by 
reason;  it  is  the  fear  of  consequences  that  makes  him  keep  his 
word. 

Hence,  reason  dictates  that  there  should  be  a  state  of  peace 


and  that  every  man  should  seek  after  peace 
of  reason,  or  law  of  nature,  commands  se 


second,  that  he  lay  down  his  natural  right  ind  be  content  with 
as  much  liberty  against  other  men  as  he  would  allow  other  men 


The  first  precept 
f -preservation ;  the 


peace  and  defense, 
to  make  void  that 


against  himself,  if  he  thinks  it  necessary  for 
When  he  has  laid  it  down,  it  is  his  duty  no 
voluntary  act  of  his  own.  A  man,  however,  jkransfers  his  right 
in  consideration  of  some  right  reciprocally  transferred  to  him- 
self, or  for  some  other  good.  Consequently,  no  man  can  be 
understood  to  transfer  some  rights,  e.g.,  the  rijght  of  self-defense. 
He  transfers  his  right  for  the  very  purpose  ojf  securing  his  life. 
The  mutual  transferring  of  right  is  contract!  Hence,  the  third 
law  of  nature  is  that  men  perform  the  covenants  made.  In 
this  consists  the  fountain  and  original  of  justice,  for  where  no 
covenant  has  preceded,  no  right  hasffbeen  transferred,  and  no 
action  is  unjust.  But  where  there  is  fear  qjn  either  part  that 
the  covenants  be  not  performed,  the  covenants  are  invalid,  and 
there  can  be  no  injustice.  It  follows  that  b^fqre  just  and  unjust 
can  have  any  meaning,  there  must  be  somp  [coercive  power  to 
compel  men  equally  to  the  performance  of  \  their  covenants,  to 
compel  men  to  perform  them  by  the  terror  of  some  punishment. 
Such  power  there  is  none  before  the  erection  of  a  common- 
wealth ;  hence,  where  there  is  no  commonwealth  there  is  nothing 
unjust.  There  are  other  laws,  but  they  car|  all  be  subsumed 
under  the  formula :  Do  not  that  to  another  wHjch  thou  wouldest 
not  have  done  to  thyself.  \— 

j  The  laws  of  nature  are  immutable  ancfeternal;  injustice,  in- 
gratitude, arrogance,  pride,  iniquity,  acception  of  persons,  and 
the  rest  can  never  be  made  lawful.  For  it  can  never  be  that 
war  shall  preserve  life  and  peace  destroy  it.  The  science  of  these 
laws  is  the  true  and  only  moral  philosophy.  For  moral  philoso- 
phy is  nothing  else  but  the  science  of  what  is  g^n^  P"n^  evil 
in  the  conversation  and  society  of  mankind.  These  laws 
laws  of  nature  because  they  are  dictates  of  reason, 


THOMAS  HOBBES  271 

are  called  moral  laws  because  they  concern  men's  manners,  one 
towards  another;  they  are  also  divine  laws  in  respect  of  the 
author  thereof. 

The  only  way  to  erect  a  commonwealth  and  have  peace  is 
to  confer  all  the  power  and  strength  of  men  upon  one  man 
or  assembly  of  men,  that  they  may  reduce  all  their  wills,  by  a 
majority  vote,  into  one  will.  This  is  more  than  consent  or 
concord,  it  is  a  real  unity  of  them  all,  in  one  and  the  same 
person,  made  by  covenant,  every  man  with  every  man.  The 
multitude  so  united  in  one  person  is  called  a  commonwealth; 
it  is  the  greatjeviathan,  the  mortal  god.  He  that  carries  that 
person  is  the  sovereign  and  has  sovereign  power. 
\  The  subjects  cannot  change  the  form  of  government,  the 
(sovereign  power  cannot  be  forfeited ;  no  one  can  protest  against 
ithe  institution  of  the  common  sovereign,  declared  by  the  major- 
\ty.  He  has  the  whole  right  of  making  rules  (legislature),  the 
right  of  judicature,  the  right  of  making  war  and  peace,  choosing 
counselors  and  ministers,  rewarding  and  punishing,  as  well  as 
/the  right  of  deciding  the  doctrines  fit  to  be  taught  his  subjects. 
These  rights  are  incommunicable  and  inseparable.  Other  rights 
the  sovereign  may  confer,  e.g.,  the  power  to  coin  money.  The 
evils  that  may  follow/from  such  absolute  sovereignty  are  not 
to  be  compared  with  the  miseries  and  horrible  calamities  of 
civil  war,  the  dissolute  condition  of  niasterless  men. 

The  sovereign  power  may  reside  in  one  man  or  in  an  assembly 
of  men  (monarchy,  aristocracy,  democracy).  The  monarchy  is 
the  best  form:  in  the  king  the  public  and  private  interest  are 
most  closely  united,  and  he  can  act  more  consistently  than  a  body 
of  men.  But  the  sovereign  power  ought  always  to  be  absolute, 
however  placed.  Some  things,  however,  the  subject  may  refuse 
to  do :  every  subject  has  liberty  in  all  things  the  right  of  which 
cannot  be  transferred  by  contract;  he  is  not  bound  to  injure  or 
kill  himself,  confess  his  crime,  kill  any  other  man,  etc.  Among 
such  rights  Hobbes  does  not  include  the  right  of  religious  liberty : 
the  religion  of  the  subjects  is  determined  by  the  State  and  is 
obligatory  upon  subjects.  God  speaks  in  these  days  by  his  vice- 
gods  or  lieutenants  here  on  earth,  by  sovereign  kings  or  such 
as  have  sovereign  authority  as  well  as  they.  The  appeal  to  the 
private  conscience  causes  trouble,  we  need  a  common  tribunal 


272  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

to  decide  how  to  act  if  we  are  to  have  peace.  Hobbes's  theory 
of  the  State  may  be  regarded  as  a  philosophical  defeuse  of  the 
English  monarchy  of  the  Stuarts  against  the  demands  of  the 
people.  The  sovereign  can  do  no  injury,  for  he  is  my  repre- 
sentative. I  have  given  him  authority.  He  may  commit  iniquity, 
but  not  injustice  or  injury  in  the  proper  meaning  of  the  term. 
The  obligation  of  subjects  lasts  as  long  and  no  longer  than  the 
power  lasts  by  which  he  is  able  to  protect  them.  The  duty  of 
the  sovereign  consists  in  the  good  government  of  the  people; 
when  his  acts  tend  to  the  hurt  of  the  people  in  general,  they 
are  breaches  of  the  law  of  nature  or  of  the  divine  law  (salus 
populi  suprema  lex). 


CONTINENTAL  RATIONALISM 

45.   REN£  DESCARTES 

Descartes,  like  Bacon,  resolutely  sets  his  face  against  the  old 
authorities  and,  like  him,  emphasizes  the  practical   character 

of  all  philosophy.    * '  Philosophy  is  a  perfect  knowl- 
The  Problem      ,        %     „   Jl/'  ..    , 

edge  of  all  that  man  can  know,  as  well  for  the 

conduct  of  his  life  as  for  the  preservation  of  his  health  and  the 
discovery  of  all  the  arts."  Unlike  the  English  empiricist,  how- 
ever, he  takes  mathematics  as  the  model  of  his  philosophical 
method:  study  logic,  he  tells  us,  and  practise  its  rules  by  study- 
ing mathematics.  He  offers  not  merely  a  program  of  human 
knowledge,  but  seeks  to  construct  a  system  of  thought  that  may 
possess  the  certainty  of  mathematics.  In  his  conception  of  ex- 
ternal nature,  he  is  in  agreement  with  the  great  natural  scientists 
of  the  new  era :  everything  in  nature, — even  physiological  proc- 
esses and  emotions, — must  be  explained  mechanically,  without 
the  aid  of  forms  or  essences.  At  the  same  time,  he  accepts  the 
fundamental  principles  of  the  time-honored  idealistic  or  spiritu- 
alistic philosophy  and  attempts  to  adapt  them  to  the  demands 
of  the  new  science:  his  problem  is  to  reconcile  mechanism  and 
the  notions  of  God,  soul,  and  freedom. 

Ren6  Descartes   (1596-1650)   was  born  at  La  Haye,  Touraine,  th« 
eon  of  a  noble  family,  and  educated  by  the  Jesuits  of  La  Fleche, 


RENE  DESCARTES  273 

learning  ancient  languages,  *  scholastic  philosophy,  and  mathematics. 
In  this  latter  study  alone  he  found  the  certainty  and  clearness  he 
craved;  the  others  did  not  satisfy  him,  and  he  abandoned  them,  upon 
leaving  school  (1612),  to  seek  only  after  such  science  "as  he  might 
discover  in  himself  or  in  the  great  book  of  the  world."  He  traveled, 
followed  the  diversions  of  high  life,  entered  the  armies  of  Maurice 
of  Nassau  (1617)  and  General  Tilly  (1619),  and  mingled  with  all 
sorts  and  conditions  of  men.  During  this  entire  period  his  intellectual 
interests  never  flagged;  indeed,  we  freqently  find  him  in  meditative 
retirement,  even  at  the  headquarters  of  the  army.  The  problem  that 
stirred  him  was  how  to  reach  such  certainty  in  philosophy  as  char- 
acterizes mathematics;  and  he  prayed  for  divine  illumination,  vowing 
a  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  Loretto  in  case  his  prayer  should  be 
answered.  Leaving  the  army  in  1621,  Descartes  devoted  himself  to 
travel  and  study  (1621-1625),  and  spent  three  years  in  Paris  with 
scientific  friends  (1625-1628);  but  feeling  the  need  of  solitude,  he 
withdrew  to  Holland,  where  he  busied  himself  with  the  preparation 
of  his  works  (1629-1649).  In  1649  he  accepted  the  invitation  of 
Queen  Christina  of  Sweden,  who  was  deeply  interested  in  philosophy, 
and  journeyed  to  Stockholm;  the  climate,  however,  undermined  his 
health,  and  he  died  after  a  year's  sojourn  (1650). 

Among  Descartes's  works  are  the  Discours  de  la  methode  (which 
appeared  with  Dioptrics,  Meteors,  and  Geometry  in  a  series  of  Philo- 
sophical Essays),  1637;  Meditationes  de  prima  philosophia  (to  which 
were  added  objections  by  several  learned  men,  Arnauld,  Hobbes, 
Gassendi,  and  others,  together  with  rejoinders  by  the  author  himself), 
1641;  Principia  philosophies,  1644;  Les  passions  de  I'ame,  1650.  The 
Discourse  and  Passions  were  written  in  French,  the  Meditations  and 
Principles  in  Latin.  The  book  Le  monde  ou  traite  de  la  lumiere,  begun 
in  1630,  was  not  published  by  Descartes;  the  condemnation  of  Galileo 
by  the  Inquisition  in  1632  deterred  the  timid  and  peace-loving  philos- 
opher from  completing  it.  It  and  the  Traite  de  I'homme  appeared  in 
1664;  the  Letters,  1657-1667;  posthumous  works,  1701. 

Works  ed.  by  Cousin,  in  French,  11  vols.,  1824-26 ;  some  unpublished 
writings  by  Foucher  de  Careil,  2  vols.,  1859-60;  Adam  and  Tannery, 
10  vols.,  1897,  ff.;  French  ed.  of  collected  works,  1907,  ff.  Transl.  of 
Method,  Meditations,  and  selections  from  Principles  by  Veitch  (used  by 
us),  and  by  Torrey;  transl.  of  works  by  E.  S.  Haldane  and  G.  Ross. 

K.  Fischer,  Descartes  and  his  School,  transl.;  monographs  by 
Mahaffy,  Jungmann,  Hoffmann,  Liard,  Fouillee;  N.  Smith,  Studies 
in  Cartesian  Philosophy;  Boutroux,  Descartes  and  Cartesianism,  in 
Cambridge  Modern  History,  vol.  IV,  chap,  xxvii;  Rev.  de  met.  el  mo- 
rale, July  1896,  Descartes-number;  Natorp,  Descartes'  Erkenntnisthe- 
orie;  Koch,  Psychologic  Descartes';  Heinze,  Sittenlehre  des  Descartes; 
Touchard,  La  morale  de  Descartes;  Life  of  Descartes,  by  E.  S.  Haldane. 

Levy-Bruhl,  History  of  Modern  Philosophy  in  France;  Damiron, 
Histoire  de  la  philosophic  du  XVII.  siecle;  Bouillier,  Histoire  de  la 
philosophic  cartesienne;  Monchamp,  Histoire  du  Cartesianisme  en 
Belgique;  Iverach,  Descartes,  Spinoza,  and  the  New  Philosophy; 
Schaarschmidt,  Descartes  und  Spinoza. 


274  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  first  part  of  true  philosophy,  according  to  Descartes,  is 
metaphysics,  which  contains  the  principles  of  knowledge,  such 
as  the  definition  of  the  principal  attributes  of  God, 
Classification  the  immateriality  of  the  soul,  and  of  all  the  clear 
Sciences  anc^  simP^e  notions  that  are  in  us.  The  second  is 

physics,  in  which,  after  finding  the  true  principles 
of  material  things,  we  examine,  in  general,  how  the  whole  uni- 
verse has  been  framed;  then,  in  particular,  the  nature  of  the 
earth  and  of  all  the  bodies  most  generally  found  upon  it,  as 
air,  water,  fire,  the  loadstone  and  other  minerals ;  next  the  nature 
of  plants,  animals,  and,  above  all,  man,  in  order  hereafter  to  be 
able  to  discover  the  other  sciences  that  are  useful  to  us.  Thus, 
all  philosophy  is  like  a  tree,  of  which  metaphysics  is  the  root, 
physics  the  trunk,  and  all  the  other  sciences  the  branches  that 
grow  out  of  this  trunk,  which  are  reduced  to  three  principal, 
namely,  medicine,  mechanics,  and  ethics.  The  science  of  morals 
is  the  highest  and  most  perfect,  which,  presupposing  an  entire 
knowledge  of  the  other  sciences,  is  the  last  degree  of  wisdom.* 
The  first  part  of  Descartes 's  book  on  the  Principles  of  Philosophy 
contains  the  metaphysics,  the  other  three  parts  take  up  "  all 
that  is  most  general,  in  physics. ' ' 

Descartes 's  aim  is  to  find  a  body  of  certain  and  self-evident 

truths,  such  as  every  one  endowed  with  common-sense  and  the 

faculty  of  reasoning  will  accept.     Such  knowledge 

Method  and      the  philosophy  of  the  School  has  not  been  able  to 
Criterion  of         «?••.•,  -!•«.  •    • 

Knowledge       afford;  there  are  many  different  opinions  on  one 

and  the  same  subject,  and  we  look  in  vain  for  cer- 
tainty in  this  field.  The  other  sciences,  taking,  as  they  do,  their 
principles  from  scholastic  philosophy,  can  have  nothing  solid 
built  upon  such  unstable  foundations.  Instead  of  clear  and 
certain  knowledge,  we  receive  a  lot  of  false  opinions  and  are 
involved  in  error  and  doubt.  There  is  not  a  single  subject 
in  philosophy  that  is  not  still  in  dispute.  Hence,  if  we 
would  have  anything  firm  and  constant  in  the  sciences,  we 

*  With  the  Greek  thinkers  of  the  classical  period  and  many  of  the  great 
philosophers  who  came  after  him,  Descartes  emphasizes  the  practical, 
ethical  significance  of  philosophy :  "  The  study  of  philosophy  is  more 
imperatively  requisite  for  the  regulation  of  our  manners  and  for  con- 
ducting us  through  life  than  is  the  use  ef  our  eyes  for  directing  our 
steps." 


RENE  DESCARTES  275 

must  get  rid  of  these  opinions  and  build  anew  from  the  bot- 
tom up. 

Instead  of  accepting  the  traditional  views,  we  ought  to  study 
the  great  book  of  the  world.  '  We  shall  never  become  philos- 
ophers even  though  we  should  read  all  the  reasonings  of  Plato 
and  Aristotle  if  we  cannot  form  a  sound  judgment  upon  any 
proposition."  To  know  the  opinions  of  others  is  not  science,  but 
history;  a  man  should  do  his  own  thinking.  But  how  shall  we 
proceed  in  our  attempts  to  reach  clear  and  certain  knowledge, 
what  method  ought  we  to  follow  ?  The  example  of  mathematics 
gives  us  a  hint  of  the  order  to  be  pursued  in  our  reasonings ;  the 
mathematicians  alone  have  been  able  to  find  certain  and  self- 
evident  propositions.  We  accept  without  debate  the  statement 
that  twice  two  is  four,  or  that  the  sum  of  the  angles  of  a  tri- 
angle is  equal  to  two  right  angles.  If  we  could  discover  such 
truths  in  philosophy,  there  would  be  an  end  of  countless  disputes 
and  controversies:  we  should  be  able  to  prove  the  existence  of 
God,  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  reality  of  an  external 
world,  and  we  should  succeed  in  laying  secure  foundations  for  the 
sciences. 

How  do  we  proceed  in  mathematics,  what  is  the  method  pur- 
sued? We  begin  with  axioms,  or  principles  which  are  self- 
evident,  which  every  one  accepts  who  hears 'and  understands 
them.  From  these  principles  as  our  starting-point  we  deduce 
other  propositions  which  logically  follow  from  them,  and  which 
are  just  as  certain  as  the  former,  provided  no  mistake  has  been 
made  in  the  reasoning.  That  is,  we  begin  with  simple  proposi- 
tions that  are  self-evident,  and  pass  from  these  to  more  complex 
ones ;  our  method  is  synthetic  or  deductive. 

This  method  must  be  applied  in  philosophy.  We  should  pro- 
ceed from  absolutely  certain  first  principles,  from  propositions 
which  are  clear  and  self-evident,  and  pass  on  to  new  and  unknown 
truths  which  are  equally  certain.  We  look  in  vain  for  such 
truth  in  the  traditional  scholastic  systems,  for  in  them  we  re- 
ceive nothing  but  a  mass  of  divergent  opinions.  Besides,  we 
cannot  accept  any  truth  on  the  authority  of  others;  we  must 
search  after  it  ourselves,  never  receive  anything  as  true  which 
we  do  not  clearly  and  distinctly  perceive  to  be  so.  And  here 
we  should  be  on  our  guard.  We  have  our  prejudices,  a  lot  of 


276  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

transmitted  notions  which  have  been  impressed  upon  us  in  our 
childhood  by  our  parents  and  teachers.  Many  of  these  opinions 
have  been  found  by  experience  to  be  false ;  perhaps  all  of  them 
are.  Neither  can  we  have  faith  in  our  sensations,  for  these 
often  deceive  us,  and  how  do  we  know  that  they  have  anything 
real  corresponding  to  them?  But  are  not  our  own  bodies  and 
actions  realities?  No,  we  cannot  be  certain  even  of  these;  we 
are  often  deceived,  we  dream,  and  in  our  dreams  we  believe  we 
have  realities  before  us,  whereas  they  are  nothing  but  illusions. 
Perhaps  we  are  dreaming  now,  at  this  present  moment ;  we  have 
no  marks  by  which  we  can  with  certainty  distinguish  between 
waking  and  dreaming.  For  all  I  know,  an  evil  spirit  has  made 
me  so  that  this  world  which  I  picture  to  myself,  exists  only  in 
my  imagination;  perhaps  it  has  no  existence  outside  my  mind. 
Even  the  demonstrations  of  mathematics  may  be  doubted,  for 
we  have  sometimes  seen  men  fall  into  error  in  such  matters 
and  admit  as  absolutely  certain  what  to  us  appeared  false. 
Besides,  God,  who  is  all-powerful,  may  have  created  us  so  that 
we  are  always  deceived  even  in  the  things  we  think  we  know  best. 

There  is,  then,  no  idea  which  seems  certain  to  me.  ' '  I  suppose, 
accordingly,  that  all  the  things  which  I  see  are  false;  I  am 
persuaded  that  none  of  those  things  which  my  deceptive  memory 
presents  to  me  are  true;  I  suppose  that  I  have  no  senses;  I 
believe  that  body,  figure,  extension,  motion,  and  place  are  nothing 
but  fictions  of  my  mind.  What  is  there  then  that  can  be  thought 
true?  Perhaps  only  that  nothing  in  the  world  is  certain." 

But  one  thing  is  certain,  and  that  is  that  I  doubt,  or  think; 
of  that  there  can  be  no  doubt.  And  it  is  a  contradiction  to 
conceive  that  that  which  thinks  does  not  exist  at  the  very  time 
when  it  thinks.  Descartes  does  not  here  infer  from  an  empirical 
psychical  fact:  I  think,  hence  I  am;  but  reasons  logically  that 
doubt  implies  a  doubter,  thinking  a  thinker,  a  thinking  thing 
(res  cogitans)  or  spiritual  substance;  thus  reaching  what  seems 
to  him  a  rational,  self-evident  proposition.  To  doubt  means  to 
think,  to  think  means  to  be ;  cogito,  ergo  sum,  I  think,  therefore 
I  am.  "  It  is  the  first  and  most  certain  knowledge  that  occurs 
to  one  who  philosophizes  in  an  orderly  manner."  Here  is  the 
principle  we  have  been  seeking, — a  certain,  self-evident  starting- 
point  for  our  metaphysics.  This  proposition  also  furnishes  us 


RENE  DESCARTES  277 

with  a  criterion  or  test  of  truth.  It  is  absolutely  certain,  it  is 
true,  it  is  clearly  and  distinctly  perceived.  Hence,  I  can  estab- 
lish it  as  a  general  rule  that  all  things  which  are  clearly  and 
distinctly  perceived  are  true. 

We  now  have  a  fundamental  principle  and  a  criterion  of  knowl- 
edge. What  else  can  we  know  ?  It  is  doubtful  whether  anything 
can  be  certain,  so  long  as  we  are  confronted  with 
the  notion  of  a  deceiving  God ;  we  do  not  know  as  Proofs  for 
yet  whether  there  is  a  God,  and  that  he  is  not  a 
deceiver.  This  difficulty  must  be  removed.  Some 
of  our  ideas  appear  to  be  innate,  some  are  our  own  inventions, 
most  of  them  seem  to  be  received  from  without.  Certain  ones 
we  regard  as  effects  or  copies  of  an  external  world.  But  all 
this  may  be  illusion.  One  of  the  ideas  I  find  in  myself  is  the 
idea  of  God.  Now,  nothing  can  come  from  nothing,  whatever 
exists  must  have  a  cause  for  existing;  this,  too,  is  a  self-evident 
proposition.  Moreover,  the  cause  must  be  at  least  as  great  as 
the  effect,  there  must  be  at  least  as  much  reality  in  it  as  in  the 
effect.  That  which  contains  greater  reality  in  itself,  the  more 
perfect,  cannot  be  a  consequence  of,  and  dependent  on,  the  less 
perfect.  Hence,  I  myself  cannot  be  the  cause  of  the  idea  of 
God,  for  I  am  a  finite,  imperfect  being,  and  the  idea  is  the  idea 
of  a  perfect,  infinite  being.  Hence,  the  idea  must  have  been 
placed  in  me  by  an  infinite  being,  or  God,  and  God  must  exist. 
This  proof  for  the  existence  of  God  is  not  the  ontological  proof 
of  Anselm,  but  a  causal  proof,  based  on  our  notion  of  a  perfect 
being.  \It  is  not  argued  that  such  a  being  exists  because  we 
have  a  concept  of  him,  but  that  the  knowledge  of  such  a  being 
necessarily  implies,  as  the  ground  of  this  concept,  a  being  greater 
than  the  knower. 

But,  it  may  be  urged,  the  notion  of  infinity  is  a  mere  negative 
concept :  the  denial  of  perfection.  It  cannot  be  that,  according 
to  Descartes,  for  the  idea  of  finitude  implies  the  idea  of  infinity, 
or  of  God;  how  could  I  doubt  or  have  desires  if  I  did  not  have 
in  myself  the  idea  of  a  being  more  perfect  than  myself,  by 
comparison  with  whom  I  recognize  the  defects  of  my  nature? 
Doubt  implies  a  standard  of  truth,  imperfection  a  standard  of 
perfection. 

Again,  I  could  not  have  been  the  cause  of  my  own  existence, 


278  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

for  I  have  an  idea  of  perfection ;  and  if  I  had  created  myself, 
I  should  have  made  myself  perfect,  and,  moreover,  I  should 
be  able  to  preserve  myself,  which  is  not  the  case.  If  my  parents 
had  created  me,  they  could  also  preserve  me,  which  is  impossible. 
Finally,  it  also  follows  from  the  very  notion  of  God  as  a  perfect 
being  that  he  exists.  It  is  not  in  my  power  to  conceive  a  God 
without  existence,  that  is,  a  being  supremely  perfect  and  yet 
devoid  of  an  absolute  perfection.  This  is  the  ontological  argu- 
ment used  by  both  Anselm  and  Augustine. 

It  is  also  unthinkable  that  the  divine  perfections,  which  I 
conceive,  should  have  more  than  one  cause,  for  if  these  causes 
were  many,  they  would  not  be  perfect ;  to  be  perfect  there  must 
be  one  cause  only,  one  God.  God  must  be  self-caused,  for  if  he 
is  the  effect  of  another  being,  then  that  being  is  the  effect  of 
another,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum:  we  have  an  infinite  regress  and 
never  reach  any  effect. 

The  idea  of  God  I  have  received  from  God ;  it  is  innate.  God 
is  not  only  the  cause,  but  the  archetype  of  our  existence,  he  has 
created  man  in  his  own  image.  It  ought  not  to  be  wondered  at 
that  God  in  creating  me  should  have  placed  this  idea  in  me,  to 
serve  as  the  mark  of  the  workman  imprinted  on  his  work.  If  God 
did  not  exist,  I  could  not  possibly  be  what  I  am,  nor  could  I 
have  an  idea  of  God.  We  know  more  of  God  himself  and  of  the 
human  mind  than  we  know  of  corporeal  objects.  Reflecting 
upon  the  idea  of  God,  we  perceive  that  he  is  eternal,  omniscient, 
omnipotent,  the  source  of  all  goodness  and  truth ;  the  creator  of 
all  things.  He  is  not  corporeal  and  does  not  perceive  by  means 
of  the  senses,  as  we  do.  He  has  intellect  and  will,  but  not  like 
ours ;  and  he  does  not  will  evil  or  sin,  for  sin  is  the  negation  of 
being.  This  is  the  usual  theistic  position  with  which  we  have 
become  acquainted  in  scholasticism.  Descartes  agrees  with  Duns 
Scotus  that  we  can  accept  reason  only  in  so  far  as  it  does  not 
conflict  with  revelation.  He  also  holds  with  Duns  that  God 
could  have  arranged  the  world  otherwise  than  it  is ;  likewise  that 
a  thing  is  good  because  God  makes  it  so ;  he  does  not  make  it  so 
because  it  is  good. 

We  have  thus  far  discovered  several  self-evident  truths:  I 
exist ;  Whatever  is  clearly  and  distinctly  perceived  is  true ;  Noth- 
ing can  be  without  a  cause;  The  cause  must  contain  at  least  as 


RENE  DESCARTES  ,  279 

much  reality  and  perfection  as  the  effect;  God  exists;  God  is 
perfect,  God  cannot  deceive  us.  But  how  comes  it,  then,  that  we 
are  ever  deceived,  that  we  ever  err  at  all?  In  the 
first  place,  the  power  of  distinguishing  the  true  from  Error  & 
the  false,  which  God  has  given  us,  is  not  infinite. 
Moreover,  error  .depends  on  the  concurrence  of  two  causes, 
namely,  the  faculty  of  ccfgnition  and  the  faculty  of  election,  or 
the  power  of  free  choice,  i.e.,  understanding  and  will.  By  under- 
standing alone,  I  neither  affirm  nor  deny  anything,  but  merely 
apprehend  the  ideas  regarding  which  I  may  form  a  judgment; 
no  error,  properly  so-called,  is  found  in  it.  Neither  is  the  will 
of  itself  the  source  of  error,  for  it  is  exceedingly  ample  and 
perfect  in  its  kind.  Errors  are  due  to  my  failure  to  restrain 
the  will  from  judging  a  thing  when  I  do  not  conceive  it  with 
sufficient  clearness  and  distinctness;  by  choosing  the  false  in- 
stead of  the  true  and  evil  instead  of  good,  the  will  falls  into 
error  and  sin. 

Another  problem  demanding  consideration  is  that  of  the  ex- 
ternal world.  We  imagine  that  there  are  bodies  outside  of  us. 
How  can  we  know  that  they  actually  exist?  We 
have  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain,  appetites,  and 
sensations,  which  we  refer  instinctively  to  bodily 
causes.  But  since  they  often  deceive  us,  we  cannot  prove  the 
existence  of  bodies  from  the  existence  of  such  experiences.  Yet, 
as  we  do  not  produce  these  states  ourselves,  they  must  be  pro- 
duced either  by  God  or  by  the  things  outside.  If  they  are  pro- 
duced by  God,  we  are  deceived, — for  we  are  not  aware  that  he 
is  their  cause, — and  God  is  a  deceiver.  God,  however,  is  not 
a  deceiver,  as  has  been  shown,  but  a  truthful  being,  and  our  sen- 
sations must,  therefore,  be  caused  by  real  bodies. 

What,  however,  are  bodies  ?  Bodies  exist  independently  of  our 
thinking ;  they  do  not  need  our  existence  in  order  to  exist.  Such 
an  independent  thing  is  called  a  substance.  By  substance  we  can 
mean  nothing  else  than  a  thing  which  so  exists  that  it  needs  no 
other  thing  in  order  to  exist.  In  reality,  there  is  only  one  such 
being,  God,  substance  in  the  absolute  sense.  We,  therefore,  have, 
strictly  speaking,  one  absolute  substance,  God,  and  two  relative 
substances,  mind  and  body.  These  two  exist  independently  of 
ont  another,  but  both  depend  on  God.  They  are  fundamentally 


280  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

different  from  one  another,  and  we  know  them  only  through 
their  attributes.  The  essential  characteristic  or  property  of  sub- 
stance, that  which  necessarily  inheres  in  it,  is  called  the  attribute. 
The  attribute  is  the  quality  without  which  the  substance  cannot 
be  thought  or  exist.  But  the  attribute  can  manifest  itself  in 
different  ways  or  modes  or  modifications.  Substance  and  at- 
tribute can  be  conceived  without  modes,  but  modes  cannot  be 
thought  without  substance  and  attribute.  We  cannot  conceive 
figure  without  extension,  nor  motion  except  in  extended  space; 
nor  imagination,  sensation,  or  will,  except  in  a  thinking  thing. 
We  can,  on  the  other  hand,  conceive  extension  without  figure  or 
motion,  and  thought  without  imagination  or  sensation.  \*The  sub- 
stance cannot  change  its  attributes,  but  it  can  change  its  modes: 
a  body  will  always  be  extended,  but  its  figure  need  not  be  the 
same.  Since  there  are  no  changes  in  God,  there  are  no  modes 
in  God. 

What,  then,  are  things  as  such?  What  we  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly perceive  in  body  is  the  essential  attribute  of  body. 
Sounds,  colors,  taste,  smell,  heat  and  cold  are  not  attributes  of 
body :  we  are  unable  to  conceive  these  clearly  and  distinctly,  they 
are  confused;  what  I  sense  is  not  the  body's  true  reality.  The 
attribute  of  body  is  extension,  and  nothing  else;  body  and  ex- 
tension are  identical.  Extension  is  length,  breadth,  and  thick- 
ness, hence  extension  and  space  are  identical.  Every  body  is  a 
limited  spatial  magnitude.  There  is,  therefore,  no  empty  space 
or  vacuum :  wherever  there  is  space,  there  is  body.  Space  is 
infinitely  divisible,  there  are  no  ultimate  parts  of  space,  hence 
no  atoms.  The  smallest  parts  of  bodies  are  still  further  divisible ; 
they  are  not  atoms,  but  corpuscles,  or  molecules,  as  we  should 
say  to-day.  Nor  can  extension  stop  anywhere :  the  corporeal 
world  is  infinite. 

All  the  processes  of  the  external  world  are  modifications  or 
modes  of  extension ;  extension  may  be  divided  without  end,  the 
parts  may  be  united  and  separated,  whence  arise  different  forms 
of  matter.  All  variation  of  matter,  or  diversity  of  form,  depends 
on  motion.  Motion  is  the  action  by  which  a  body  passes  from 
one  place  to  another.  It  is  a  mode  of  the  movable  thing,  not  a 
substance.  All  occurrence  is  transference  of  motion  from  one 
part  of  space  to  another.  "  Motion  is  the  transporting  of  one 


RENE  DESCARTES  281 

part  of  matter  or  of  one  body  from  the  vicinity  of  those  bodies 
that  are  in  immediate  contact  with  it,  or  which  we  regard  at 
rest,  to  the  vicinity  of  other  bodies."  The  physical  world  is 
explained  in  terms  of  mechanics.  There  is  no  action  in  the  dis- 
tance, all  occurrences  are  due  to  pressure  and  impact.  Hence, 
there  must  be  a  universal  ether  to  account  for  the  facts  of 
astronomy. 

Body  conceived  as  mere  extension  is  passive  and  cannot  move 
itself;  we  must,  therefore,  have  recourse  to  God  as  the  first 
cause  of  motion  in  the  world.  "  God  originally  created  matter 
along  with  motion  and  rest,  and  now  by  his  concourse  alone 
preserves  in  the  whole  the  same  amount  of  motion  that  he  then 
placed  in  it."  This  view  of  the  prime  mover  was  common  in 
the  time  of  Descartes  and  after.  Galileo  and  Newton  both  ac- 
cepted it  :  it  is  the  old  Aristotelian  conception.)1  To  hinder  divine 
interference  with  the  world,  however,  whic'h  would  mean  the 
abandonment  of  the  mechanical  theory  and  a  relapse  into  scholas- 
ticism, our  philosopher  holds  that  God  has  given  the  world  a 
certain  amount  of  motion  :  motion  is  constant.  We  have  here 
the  theory  of  the  conservation  of  energy  in  germ.  Bodies  can- 
not produce  motion  of  themselves  or  stop  it  ;  consequently,  they 
can  neither  increase  nor  decrease  it,  and  hence  the  quantity  of 
motion  and  rest  must  remain  the  same. 

Since  God  is  immutable,  all  changes  in  the  world  of  bodies 
must  follow  according  to  constant  rules,  or  laws  of  nature.  All 
laws  of  nature  are  laws  of  motion.  All  differences  in  bodies  are 
explained  as  different  relations  of  the  parts:  solid  bodies  are 
bodies  in  which  the  parts  are  united  and  at  rest;  fluids  are 
bodies  in  which  the  parts  move. 

Mind  is  diametrically  opposed  to  body.  The  attribute  of  body 
is  extension:  bodies  are  passive;  the  attribute  of  mind  is  think- 
ing: mind  is  active,  free.  The  two  substances  are 


absolutely  distinct:  mind  is  absolutely  without  ex-  & 


tension,  and  no  body  can  think.  We  cannot 
conceive  of  mind  or  soul  without  thought:  the  soul  is  ret 
cogitans;  I  have  a  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  myself  in  so  far 
as  I  am  only  a  thinking  and  unextended  thing.  Hence,  it  is 
certain  that  I,  that  is,  my  mind,  through  which  I  am  what  I  am, 
is  entirely  and  truly  distinct  from  my  body,  and  may  exist  with- 


282  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

out  it.  I  can  clearly  and  distinctly  conceive  myself  as  entire, 
without  the  faculties  of  imagining  and  perceiving,  but  I  cannot 
conceive  these  without  conceiving  myself,  that  is  to  say,  without 
an  intelligent  substance  in  which  they  reside.  Imagination  and 
perception  are,  therefore,  distinct  from  myself,  as  modes  are 
from  things.*  We  clearly  perceive  that  neither  extension  nor 
figure  nor  local  motion  nor  anything  similar  that  can  be  at- 
tributed to  body,  pertains  to  our  nature,  and  nothing  save 
thought  alone.  And,  consequently,  the  notion  we  have  of  our 
mind  precedes  that  of  any  corporeal  thing,  and  is  more  certain, 
seeing  we  still  doubt  whether  there  is  any  body  in  existence, 
while  we  already  perceive  that  we  think. 

What  particularly  attracted  Descartes  in  this  extreme  dualism 
was  that  it  left  nature  free  for  the  mechanical  explanations  of 
natural  science.  Mind  is  eliminated  from  nature  and  given  an 
independent  territory  of  its  own.  Physics  is  allowed  to  go  its 
own  way ;  all  purposes  or  final  causes  are  banished  from  it.  A 
division  is  made  between  mind  and  body  similar  to  the  division 
made  between  theology  and  philosophy  in  scholastic  days.  This 
teaching  Descartes  applies  to  the  entire  organic  world,  even  to 
the  human  body.  The  human  body  is,  like  the  animal  body,  a 
machine.  The  moving  principle  in  it  is  the  heat  in  the  heart; 
the  organs  of  motion  are  the  muscles;  the  organs  of  sensation, 
the  nerves.  Animal  spirits  are  distilled  in  the  blood  in  the  heart 
and  rise  through  the  arteries  into  the  brain,  and  thence  into  the 
muscles  and  nerves.  All  the  functions  of  the  body  follow  natu- 
rally, in  this  machine,  from  the  arrangement  of  the  organs, — 
as  necessarily  as  the  movements  of  a  watch  or  other  automaton 
follow  from  its  pendulum  and  wheels.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
conceive  in  it  any  plant  or  sensitive  soul  or  any  other  principle 
of  vital  motion  than  blood  and  the  animal  spirits.  D.escartes 
repudiates  the  vitalism  of  Aristotle  and  the  schoolmen,  and  offers 
a  thoroughgoing  mechanical  theory  of  organic  nature. 

If  these  two  substances  exclude  one  another,  it  would  follow 
that  there  can  be  no  interaction  between  them:  mind  cannot 

*  In  thought,  however,  Descartes  includes  will  and  evidently  also  such 
higher  emotions  as  are  not  the  result  of  the  union  of  body  and  mind.  He 
tells  us  in  his  Discourse  on  Method  that  a  thinking  thing  is  one  that 
doubts,  understands,  conceives,  affirms,  denies,  wills,  refuses,  imagines  aa 
frell  as  feels. 


RENE  DESCARTES  283 

cause  changes  in  the  body,  and  body  cannot  cause  changes  in  the 
mind.  Descartes,  however,  does  not  draw  the  consequences  of  his 
premises.  There  are  certain  facts  which  point  to  an  intimate 
union  between  body  and  mind  in  man :  appetites  of  hunger  and 
thirst ;  emotions  and  passions  of  mind  which  are  not  exclusively 
mental  affections;  sensations  of  pain,  color,  light,  sound,  etc. 
These  we  cannot  refer  to  the  body  alone  or  to  the  soul  alone,  but 
must  explain  by  the  close  and  intimate  union  of  the  two.  The 
union  is  not  to  be  conceived  as  one  like  that  of  the  pilot  to  the 
vessel.  My  mind  and  my  body  compose  a  substantial  unity.  All 
the  sensations  just  mentioned  are  merely  confused  modes  of 
consciousness,  the  result  of  this  union.  That  is,  man  is  not  a 
pure  spirit.  Motion  in  animals,  and  often  in  ourselves,  occurs 
without  the  intervention  of  reason ;  the  senses  excited  by  external 
objects  simply  react  to  the  animal  spirits  and  the  reactions  are 
mechanical, — the  animal  is  nothing  but  a  machine ; — but  this  is 
not  the  case  with  human  sensations.  If  I  were  merely  a  thinking 
being,  if  my  soul  were  not  somehow  intimately  conjoined  with 
my  body,  I  should,  for  example,  know  that  I  am  hungry,  but 
not  feel  hungry.  I  should  not  have  these  confused  modes  of 
consciousness. 

Just  how  this  intimate  union  is  to  be  conceived,  is  not  made 
quite  clear,  however.  Descartes  warns  us  against  confounding 
mind  and  body  with  one  another.  Thought  and  extension,  he 
tells  us,  can  be  combined,  in  man,  in  unity  of  composition,  but 
not  in  unity  of  nature :  the  union  should  not  be  compared  with 
a  mixture  of  two  bodies.  He  teaches  that  "  thought  can  be 
troubled  by  the  organs  without  being  the  product  of  them  "; 
sensations,  feelings,  and  appetites  are  disturbances  in  the  soul 
resulting  from  its  union  with  a  body.  In  spite  of  the  union, 
however,  body  and  soul  remain  distinct;  God  has  put  them  to- 
gether; he  cannot  rid  himself  of  the  power  of  separating  them 
or  of  conserving  the  one  apart  from  the  other.  Descartes 's  idea 
here  seems  to  be  that  the  relation  between  mind  and  body  is  not 
such  that  a  physical  state  becomes  a  mental  state,  produces  or 
causes  a  mental  state,  or  vice  versa :  the  mind  is  simply  troubled 
by  organic  processes.  His  obscurity  and  vacillation  on  this  point 
are  due  to  his  desire  to  explain  the  corporeal  world  on  purely 
mechanical  principles  and  at  th«  same  time  leave  a  place  for 


284.  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  action  of  a  spiritual  principle.  The  facts  of  experience  point 
to  an  intimate  connection  between  the  two  worlds  which  his  elear- 
cut  distinction  between  them  seems  to  render  impossible. 

At  other  times,  however,  he  accepts  the  theory  of  causal  inter- 
action without  hesitation.  The  soul,  though  united  with  the 
whole  body,  exercises  its  functions  more  particularly,  or  has 
its  principal  seat,  in  the  pineal  gland  of  the  brain.  Movements 
are  caused  by  sensible  objects  in  the  animal  spirits  and  trans- 
ferred to  the  pineal  gland ;  in  this  way  sensations  are  produced. 
The  soul  can  also  move  the  gland  in  different  ways ;  this  motion 
is  transferred  to  the  animal  spirits  and  conducted  by  them  over 
the  nerves  into  the  muscles.  Here  the  relation  of  mind  and  body 
is  clearly  conceived  as  causal :  through  the  mediation  of  the  pineal 
gland  a  certain  interaction  is  brought  about  between  them. 

The  soul,  according  to  Descartes,  does  not  consist  of  separate 
souls  or  faculties,  but  is  a  single  principle  expressing  itself  in 
.  various  ways:  the  same  soul  that  feels  also  rea- 

sons and  wills.  He  distinguishes  between  its  active 
and  passive  phases,  the  actions  and  passions  of  the  soul,  as  he 
calls  them.  The  former  are  our  volitions  or  acts  of  will,  which 
depend  on  the  soul  itself:  I  am  free  to  will  to  love  God,  or  to 
think  pure  thought,  or  to  create  pictures  of  the  imagination  and 
to  move  my  body.  The  latter  are  sensations  and  their  copies, 
our  appetites,  pain,  heat,  and  other  bodily  feelings,  which  are 
referred  either  to  external  objects  or  to  the  body.  The  volun- 
tary or  active  states  are  absolutely  in  the  power  of  the  soul 
and  can  only  be  indirectly  changed  by  the  body,  whereas  the 
passive  states  depend  absolutely  on  their  physiological  causes 
and  can  be  changed  by  the  soul  only  indirectly,  except  in  cases 
in  which  the  soul  is  itself  their  cause.  There  are,  however,  other 
states,  or  "  perceptions,"  "  of  which  we  feel  the  effects  as  in 
the  soul  itself."  These  are  the  sentiments  of  joy,  anger,  and 
the  like,  which  are  passions  in  the  restricted  sense  of  the  term; 
they  are  perceptions  or  sentiments  or  emotions  of  the  soul  which 
we  refer  particularly  to  it  and  which  are  caused,  supported,  and 
strengthened  by  certain  movements  of  the  animal  spirits.  The 
principal  effect  and  use  of  such  passions,  however,  is  to  incite 
and  dispose  the  soul  to  will  the  things  for  which  they  prepare 
the  body :  fear  incites  the  will  to  fly,  courage  to  fight,  and  so  on. 


RENE  DESCARTES  285 

The  passions  proper  have  as  their  immediate  cause  the  move- 
ments of  the  animal  spirits  which  agitate  the  pineal  gland,  but 
they  can  sometimes  be  caused  by  the  action  of  the  soul,  which 
wills  to  conceive  such  and  such  an  object;  thus  I  may  arouse 
feelings  of  courage  in  myself  by  analyzing  the  situation. 

The  so-called  conflicts  between  natural  appetites  and  will  are 
explained  as  oppositions  between  movements,  which  the  body  by 
its  spirits,  and  the  soul  by  its  will,  tend  to  excite  in  the  pineal 
gland  at  the  same  time.  Every  one  can  recognize  the  strength 
or  weakness  of  his  soul  by  the  outcome  of  such  conflicts.  But 
there  is  no  soul  so  feeble  that  it  cannot,  if  well  conducted,  acquire 
an  absolute  power  over  its  passions.  The  power  of  the  soul, 
however,  is  inadequate  without  the  knowledge  of  truth. 

Descartes  enumerates  six  primary  passions :  wonder,  love,  hate, 
desire,  joy,  and  sorrow,  of  which  all  the  rest  are  species.  They 
are  all  related  to  the  body;  their  natural  use  being  to  incite 
the  soul  to  consent  and  contribute  to  the  actions  which  tend 
to  preserve  the  body  or  to  render  it  in  some  way  more  perfect; 
and  in  this  sense  joy  and  sorrow  are  the  first  to  be  employed. 
For  the  soul  is  directly  turned  from  harmful  things  only  by  the 
feeling  of  pain,  which  produces  the  passion  of  sorrow,  then  fol- 
low hatred  of  the  cause  of  the  pain  and  the  desire  to  be  freed 
from  the  pain. 

Our  good  and  evil  depend  chiefly  on  the  inner  emotions  ex- 
cited in  the  soul  only  by  the  soul  itself.  So  long  as  the  soul 
has  something  within  to  satisfy  it,  all  the  troubles  which  come 
from  without  have  no  power  to  hurt  it.  And  in  order  that  it 
may  have  this  inner  satisfaction,  all  that  is  needed  is  to  follow 
virtue  exactly.  We  note  here  the  Stoic  influence  on  Descartes 's 
ethics.  Stoicism  was  the  current  ethical  theory  in  the  Renais- 
sance and  remained  popular  far  into  modern  times. 

Bacon  had  suggested  a  mechanical  theory  of  mental  states  and 
Hobbes  had  made  mechanism  the  basis  of  his  entire  world-view. 
Descartes  attempts  to  apply  it  in  detail  to  a  large  portion  of  our 
psychic  life.  But  he  does  not  explain  all  our  mental  processes 
in  this  way.  Mind  itself  is  a  distinct  entity,  having  the  power 
of  understanding  and  will.  Moreover,  all  the  "  perceptions,"  of 
which  Descartes  speaks, — sensations,  appetites,  emotions, — are 
states  of  mind,  not  motions ;  and  some  passions  are  purely  men- 


286  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tal,  not  caused  by  organic  activities  at  all.  The  will  is  ind«- 
pendent  of  bodily  states  and  can  of  its  own  accord  produce  such 
states.  The  will  is  free,  and  the  ethical  ideal  of  the  soul  is  to 
make  itself  free  from  external  influences,  to  keep  the  reins  in  its 
own  hands. 

The  aim  of  Descartes  is  to  reach  clear  and  certain  knowledge, 
such  certainty  as  arises  when  we  judge  that  it  is  impossible  for 

_  a  thing  to  be  otherwise  than  we  conceive  it.     We 

Innate  Ideas     ,  . 

have  suck  necessary  knowledge  in  the  demonstra- 
tions of  mathematics,  and  also  in  philosophy  if  we  follow  the 
proper  metho^:  Certain  truths  are  clearly  and  distinctly  per- 
ceived, though  not  equally  by  all  men.  Now,  such  knowledge 
cannot  spring  from  the  senses;  they  do  not  tell  us  what  things 
are  in4}>emselves  or  as  such,  but  only  how  they  affect  us.  Colors, 
sounds,  taste,  odors,  do  not  belong  to  the  object.  What  the  real 
object  is,  what  it  is  when  stripped  of  the  qualities  the  senses 
ascribe  to  it,  we  can  know  only  by  clear  and  distinct  thinking. 
If  we  cannot  derive  true  knowledge  from  sense-experience,  if 
genuine  knowledge  is  the  result  of  reasoning  from  certain  basal 
notions  and  principles,  these  must  be  inherent  in  the  mind  itself, 
innate,  or  a  priori.  The  mind  has  its  own  standards  or  norms, 
which  guide  it  in  the  pursuit  of  truth.  Principles  of  knowledge 
may  become  explicit  only  in  the  course  of  experience,  that  is, 
as  the  mind  exercises  itself  in  thought,  but  they  are  somehow 
present  from  the  beginning.  Descartes 's  basal  idea  is  that  rea- 
son has  its  natural  norms;  how  they  are  present,  he  is  not 
sure ;  here,  again,  he  vacillates.  By  innate  knowledge  he  some- 
times means  ideas  or  truths  impressed  upon  the  mind,  princi- 
ples which  the  soul  finds  in  itself,  and  sometimes  the  native 
power  or  faculty  of  the  soul  to  produce  such  knowledge  in  the 
course  of  human  experience.  The  polemic  of  Locke  against  the 
doctrine  of  innate  ideas  contributed  to  greater  clarity  and  defi- 
niteness  with  regard  to  the  whole  problem,  and  compelled  ration- 
alism in  the  persons  of  Leibniz  and  Kant  to  present  the  teaching 
in  a  different  form. 

Descartes 's  rationalism  and  apriorism  did  not  hinder  him  from 
paying  ample  attention  to  experience.*     He  did  not  work  out 

*  Cf.  Duboux,  La  physique  de  Descartes;  Foster,  History  of  Physiology 
during  the  Sixteenth,  Seventeenth,  and  Eighteenth  Centuries. 


SUCCESSORS  OF  DESCARTES  187 

a  systematic  theory  of  knowledge ;  he  was  interested  in  discover- 
ing a  method  of  truth  rather  than  in  a  detailed  discussion  of 
epistemological  problems.  In  spite  of  his  studied  skepticism, 
he  was  a  dogmatist  in  the  sense  of  believing  in  the  competence 
of  reason  to  attain  certain  knowledge.  He  was  a  realist  in  ac- 
cepting the  existence  of  an  external  world,  the  true  nature  of 
which,  however,  can  be  discovered  only  by  rational  thinking. 

46.    SUCCESSORS  OP  DESCARTES 

The  Cartesian  philosophy  presented  many  difficulties  and  pro- 
voked a  host  of  problems  which  kept  thinkers  busy  for  centuries 
to  come.  If  God  and  nature,  it  was  held,  are  two 
distinct  and  independent  realities,  as  the  theory  p  e, , 
demands,  there  can  be  no  real  converse  between 
them.  Then  God  cannot  impress  the  idea  of  himself  upon  the 
mind  of  man,  nor  can  man  know  anything  of  God.  It  is  also 
inexplicable  how  God,  a  pure  spirit,  should  be  able  to  impart 
motion  to  matter.  These  perplexities  Descartes  sometimes  seeks 
to  escape  by  distinguishing  between  the  substantiality  of  God 
and  that  of  souls  and  bodies:  God  is  the  only  real  substance, 
all  things  else  are  dependent  on  God,  effects  of  his  causality,  his 
creatures.  In  nominally  abandoning  the  dualism  inherent  in 
the  system,  our  philosopher  opens  the  way  for  the  pantheism  of 
Spinoza.  A  similar  dualism  is  created  between  God  and  man 
when  man  is  endowed  with  free  will,  as  Descartes  endows  him, 
without  being  able  to  explain  the  "  great  mystery  "  by  his  phi- 
losophy. Another  chasm  yawns  between  man  and  nature,  or 
mind  and  body.  If  mind  and  body  are  totally  distinct,  how 
can  any  communication  take  place  between  them  ?  By  hypothesis, 
interaction  is  impossible,  and  yet  such  interaction  is  assumed  as 
a  fact.  We  have,  therefore,  a  double  contradiction  here:  body 
and  soul  are  independent  substances,  and  yet  God  is  the  only 
true  substance,  souls  and  bodies  are  his  creations.  Body  and 
soul  are  independent  substances,  and  yet  they  act  on  one  an- 
other. Moreover,  it  was  asked,  if  the  bodies  of  animals  are  ma- 
chines, why  not  human  bodies  f 

The  new   philosophy   is  an  attempt  to   harmonize   the   me- 
chanical theory  of  modern  science,  which  it  was  impossible  to 


288  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

ignore,  with  the  spiritualistic  theology  and  metaphysics  which 
had  come  in  with  Christianity.  Nearly  all  of  Descartes 's  diffi- 
culties are  caused  by  his  task  of  reconciliation;  the  function  of 
his  successors  consisted  either  in  pointing  them  out  or  discover- 
ing ways  of  escaping  them.  It  was  possible  to  avoid  the  dualism 
of  the  system  (1)  by  eliminating  nature  as  an  independent 
reality  and  teaching  absolute  idealism  (Malebranche)  ;  (2)  by 
eliminating  mind  as  an  independent  reality  and  accepting  mate- 
rialism (Hobbes,  La  Mettrie,  and  the  French  materialists)  ;  (3) 
by  making  both  mind  and  matter  manifestations  of  an  absolute 
substance,  God  or  Nature  (Spinoza).  Or  it  was  possible  to 
retain  the  dualism  and  frankly  deny  the  possibility  of  inter- 
action (parallelism).  In  addition  to  the  metaphysical  prob- 
lems, questions  concerning  the  origin,  nature,  and  method  of 
knowledge  demanded  further  attention;  and  in  this  work  Eng- 
lish empiricism  and  French  sensationalism  took  the  leading  part. 

The  philosophy  of  Descartes  met  with  bitter  opposition  from  the 
Jesuits  (having  been  placed  on  the  Index  in  1663)  and  the  Calvinists 
in  Holland,  and  was  prohibited  in  the  universities  of  France  and 
Germany.  It  gained  followers,  however,  in  the  new  Dutch  universities, 
particularly  among  the  theologians,  and  in  France,  where  it  was  taken 
up  by  the  Oratory  of  Jesus.  Among  those  who  were  interested  in 
the  metaphysical  problems  suggested  by  Cartesianism,  especially  in 
the  problem  of  the  relation  of  mind  and  body,  we  mention:  Regis 
(1632-1707),  De  la  Forge,  Cordemoy,  Clauberg  (1622-1665),  Bekker 
(1634-1698),  who  tries  to  prove,  on  Cartesian  principles,  the  im- 
possibility of  demonology,  witchcraft,  magic,  and  other  superstitions, 
and  Arnold  Geulincx  (1625-1669).  Clauberg  holds  that  the  spul 
cannot  produce  movements  in  the  body,  but  can  direct  such  movements 
as  the  driver  guides  his  horses.  Antoine  Arnauld  (1612-1694),  author 
(with  Nicole)  of  Art  de  penser,  or  the  Port-Royal  Logic  as  it  came 
to  be  called,  and  a  follower  of  Jansenism,  accepted  the  philosophy  of 
Descartes. 

Most  of  these  Cartesians  reject  the  theory  of  interaction,  or 

influxus  physicus,  as  it  was  called,  and  have  recourse  to  the  will 

I      ,.       of  God  in  explanation  of  the  body-mind  relation. 

Body  and  mind  are  distinct ;  the  will  does  not  move 

bodies ;  how  could  it  ?    It  is  the  occasion  for  such  a  change  taking 

place  in  the  external  world,  which  God  himself  brings  about. 

Nor  can  physical  occurrences  produce  ideas  in  us :  they  are  only 

the  occasional  causes  (causce  occasionales]  for  God's  producing 

them  in  us.    This  view  has  been  called  Occasionalism.    It  is  par- 


SUCCESSORS  OF  DESCARTES  289 

allelism,  holding  that  mental  and  physical  processes  are  not 
causally  related  but  run  parallel  to  one  another.  We  have  here 
the  beginnings  of  the  criticism  of  the  notion  of  causation  which 
culminated  in  Hume's  skepticism:  how  can  a  mental  cause  pro- 
duce a  physical  effect,  or  vice  versa? 

Geulincx  explains  the  matter  somewhat  differently.  It  is  true, 
he  holds,  we  cannot  act  on  the  physical  world  nor  can  the 
physical  world  act  on  us.  Yet  our  volitions  are  not 
the  occasion  for  creating  movements,  nor  move- 
ments  the  occasion  for  creating  ideas,  by  a  spe- 
cial act  of  God.  Nor  did  God  preestablish  the  harmony  between 
body  and  soul.  God  knows  what  I  am  going  to  will,  although 
my  will  is  free;  and  the  entire  universe  has  been  arranged  in 
accordance  with  that  knowledge.  "  God  in  his  infinite  wisdom 
has  instituted  laws  of  motion,  so  that  a  movement  which  is 
entirely  independent  of  my  will  and  power  coincides  with  my 
free  volition."  Geulincx  also  deviates  from  Cartesianism  in  his 
conception  of  knowledge:  we  cannot  know  things  as  they  are 
in  themselves;  God  alone  has  knowledge  of  them,  whereas  we 
know  only  our  own  ego. 

Works  by  Geulincx:  Saturnalia,  1653;  Logica,  1662;  Ethica,  1664,  ff.; 
Physica  vera,  1688;  Metaphysica,  1691.  Edition  of  works  by  Land, 
3  vols.  Monographs  by  Land,  van  der  Haeghen,  E.  Pfleiderer,  Grimm, 
Samtleben. 

Nicolas  Malebranche    (1638-1715)    looks   at  the  problem  presented 
by  Descartes  from  another  angle.     He  was  a  member  of  the  Oratory 
of  Jesus,  among  whom  the  doctrines  of  Augustine  were 
popular   and    who    became   greatly   interested   in    Car-    Idealism 
tesianism.       The     reading    of     Descartes's     Traite    de 
I'homme  led  him  to  devote  himself  to  the  study  of  the  entire  system. 
Although    his    aim    was    the    harmony    of    religion    and    philosophy, 
Augustinianism  and  Cartesianism,  his  books  were  placed  on  the  Index. 
His  chief  works  are:  De  la  recherche  de  la  verite,  1675;  Traite  de  la 
nature  et  de  la  grace,  1680;  Traite  de  la  morale,  1684;  Entretiens  sur 
la  religion  et  metaphysique,  1688;  Traite  de  I 'amour  de  Dieu,  1697. 

Works  ed.  by  Simon,  4  vols. ;  translations  of  a  number  of  his  books ; 
monographs  by  Joly,  Olle-Laprune,  Novaro.  See  also  E.  Caird, 
Essays  on  Literature  and  Philosophy;  Pillon,  V 'evolution  de  I'idealisme, 
etc.,  in  Annee  philosophique,  vols.  IV  and  V. 

If  thought  is  something  utterly  distinct  from  motion,  Male- 
branche asks,  how  can  motion  produce  sensation,  and  how  can 


290  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

mind  perceive  real  extension  if  such  there  be  ?  The  thing  seems 
impossible.  Spiritual  things  are  spiritually  discerned,  the  like 
knows  the  like  only.  What  we  see  is  not  the  real  world  or  real 
extension,  but  a  world  of  ideas,  an  intelligible  world,  intelligible 
or  ideal  space.  The  ideas  are  in  God,  and  God  is  spirit  with  spir- 
itual attributes  only.  A  real  body,  or  created  space,  cannot 
affect  mind;  nothing  but  an  ideal  body,  the  idea  of  a  body,  can 
do  that.  We  see  all  things  in  God,  not  in  an  extended  God,  but  in 
a  thinking  God ;  and  the  things  wre  see  are  ideas,  not  the  extended 
material  objects  themselves.  Thus  far,  Malebranche 's  theory 
is  an  idealistic  pantheism,  and  if  he  had  stopped  here,  the  ver- 
dict of  the  historians  of  philosophy  who  call  him  a  "  Christian 
Spinoza  "  might  seem  partly  justified.  He  does  not  hold,  how- 
ever, that  there  is  but  one  universal  substance,  but  that  there  is 
only  one  supreme  Reason  embracing  the  ideas  of  all  possible 
things.  The  material  world  is  terra  incognita;  whether  it  exists 
or  not,  he  does  not  know.  Its  idea  is  the  real  immediate  object 
of  my  mind,  and  not  matter  itself;  I  cannot  know  that  this 
exists  except  through  natural  or  supernatural  revelation.  "  If 
God  had  destroyed  the  created  world,  and  would  continue  to 
affect  me  as  he  now  affects  me,  I  should  continue  to  see  what  I 
now  see;  and  I  should  believe  that  this  (created)  world  exists, 
since  it  is  not  this  world  that  acts  on  my  mind."  We  believe 
in  such  a  world  because  revelation  tells  us  of  its  existence. 
Malebranche 's  system  would  be  pantheism  if  he  had  rejected  this 
unknown  counter-world  whose  face  is  turned  away  from  us, 
but  it  would  be  idealistic  pantheism  and  not  Spinozism. 

Malebranche 's  discussions  of  the  problem  of  causation  resem- 
ble the  criticisms  later  made  by  Hume,  who  examined  the  French 
Platonist's  doctrine.  We  cannot  derive  the  notion  of  necessary 
connection  of  cause  and  effect  from  outer  and  inner  experience : 
our  right  to  assume  such  necessary  connection  lies  in  reason ;  the 
notion  of  necessary  causation  is  implied  in  the  notion  of  universal 
being. 

In    Blaise    Pascal    (1623-1662;    Lettres    provinciates,    1657, 

Pensees  sur  la  religion,   1669),   a   gifted   mathematician   and 

.  physicist,   mysticism   is   combined   with   a   partial 

skepticism.    Pascal,  who  sympathized  with  the  Jan- 

senists  of  Port  Royal,  a  reform  movement  within  the  Catholic 


SUCCESSORS  OF  DESCARTES  291 

Church  inspired  by  Augustinian  thoughts,  accepted  the  Car- 
tesian dualism  with  its  mechanical  conception  of  nature.  He 
also  recognized  the  validity  of  certain  first  principles,  e.g., 
the  existence  of  space,  time,  motion,  number,  matter.  But  knowl- 
edge of  ultimates  he  declared  to  be  beyond  our  ken;  we  know 
neither  the  ground  nor  the  goal  of  things.  We  cannot  demon- 
strate the  existence  of  God  nor  the  immortality  of  the  soul; 
philosophical  proofs  may  perhaps  lead  us  to  a  God  of  truth,  but 
never  to  a  God  of  love.  Reason,  therefore,  ends  in  doubt  and 
leaves  us  in  the  lurch  when  it  comes  to  our  deepest  interests. 
But  in  religious  feeling  we  directly  experience  God  and  find 
peace :  ' '  the  heart  has  its  reasons  which  reason  does  not  know. ' ' 
Since,  however,  everything  natural, — human  nature  and  human 
society, — is  sinful  and  corrupt,  divine  grace,  revelation,  and  the 
authority  of  the  Church  alone  can  save  us. 

Works  ed.  by  Bossut;  Pensees,  by  Brunsehvicg,  1904;  transl.  of 
Thoughts  and  Provincial  Letters  by  Kegan  Paul.  Monographs  by 
Tulloch,  Boutroux,  Girand,  St.  Cyr,  Strowski  (3  vols.),  Cousin,  Vinet, 
Droz,  Dreydorff;  Roster,  Ethik  Pascals. 

Pierre  Poiret  (1646-1719)  accepted  the  mysticism  of  Jacob  Boehme. 
Francis  van  Helmont  (1618-1699),  a  predecessor  of  Leibniz  in  his 
monadology,  is  a  mystic  who  was  influenced  by  Platonism  and  cabalistic 
lore. 

Pierre  Bayle  (1647-1706;  Dictionnaire  historique  et  critique, 
1695,  Systeme  de  la  philosophic,  1737)  applies  the  Cartesian 

criterion  of  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  as  his   , 

.    .          ,  ,  .  ...  .  „      ,.,        Skepticism 

test  in  a  keen  and  searching  criticism  of  philo- 
sophical and  theological  dogmatism.  With  remarkable  dialectical 
skill  he  lays  bare  inconsistencies  of  fact  and  reason  in  the  doc- 
trines of  religion  and  calls  attention  to  the  opposition  between 
reason  and  revelation,  science  and  religion.  Religion  is  thus  lim- 
ited to  revelation,  but  revelation  itself  must  submit  to  reason; 
the  historical  facts  on  which  it  is  based  must  be  subjected  to 
critical  examination.  Religious  and  metaphysical  theories,  how- 
ever, do  not  affect  human  morality. 

Bayle  influenced  both  Leibniz  and  Hume,  and  his  Dictionary 
was  translated  into  German  by  no  less  a  person  than  Gottsched, 
one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Aufkldrung.  His  destructive  criticism 
proved  most  potent  in  the  case  of  the  philosophers  of  the  French 
Enlightenment  of  the  eighteenth  century,  who,  as  a  recent  writer 


292  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

says,  drew  copiously  from  his  great  work  without  mentioning 
the  author's  name.  In  1767  Frederick  the  Great  wrote  to  Vol- 
taire :  *  *  Bayle  began  the  battle.  A  number  of  Englishmen  fol- 
lowed in  his  wake.  You  are  destined  to  finish  the  fight." 

Delvolve,  Eeligion,  critique  et  philosophic  positive  chez  P.  Bayle; 
articles  by  Pillon  in  Annee  philosophique,  1896-1902;  monographs  by 
Feuerbach,  Botin. 

47.   BENEDICT  SPINOZA 

Descartes  is  a  dogmatist  and  a  rationalist:  he  believes  in  the 
power  of  human  reason  to  reach  sure  and  universal  knowledge. 
.  With  the  help  of  self-evident  notions  and  principles, 

which  have  their  seat  in  the  mind,  he  undertakes  to 
construct  a  universal  theory  as  binding  on  reason  as  the  proposi- 
tions of  geometry.  Spinoza  shares  this  faith;  for  him,  too,  the 
goal  of  philosophy  is  the  complete  knowledge  of  things,  and  this 
can  be  reached  by  clear  and  distinct  thinking.  If  we  proceed  from 
self-evident  principles  and  prove  every  step  in  the  argument, 
we  can  fashion  a  body  of  truth  as  certain  and  universal  as  mathe- 
matics. Descartes  had  given  an  illustration  of  the  application 
of  the  geometric  method  in  the  appendix  to  his  Meditations. 
Spinoza  follows  the  same  method  in  his  early  book  on  the  expo- 
sition of  Descartes 's  philosophy  and  in  his  chief  work,  Ethics. 
He  begins  with  definitions  and  axioms  and  proceeds  to  proposi- 
tions which  he  demonstrates  in  the  geometrical  order,  ordine 
geometrico,  each  proposition  occupying  exactly  the  place  in 
the  argument  where  it  belongs.  To  the  propositions  are  added 
corollaries,  which  are  necessary  consequences  of  propositions, 
and  scholia,  in  which  propositions  are  discussed  more  at  length 
and  in  less  formal  manner.  His  strict  adherence  to  the  mathe- 
matical method  greatly  influenced  Spinoza 's  thought,  as  we  shall 
-see  later  on. 

In  aim  and  in  method,  then,  Spinoza  follows  the  example  set 
by  Descartes.  He  is  also  interested  in  the  same  problems  as  his 
predecessor,  but  seeks  to  solve  them  in  a  more  consistent  and  sys- 
tematic way.  Descartes  distinguishes  sharply  between  God  and 
nature,  mind  and  body:  thought  is  the  attribute  of  mind,  ex- 
tension the  attribute  of  body.  Nevertheless,  he  declares  that  God 
is  the  sole  independent  substance,  on  which  all  other  so-called 


. 


BENEDICT  SPINOZA  293 

substances  depend,  and  that  these  have  merely  relative  inde- 
pendence. This  idea  Spinoza  takes  seriously  and  works  out  with 
logical  consistency.  If  substance  is  that  which  needs  nothing 
other  than  itself  to  exist  or  to  be  conceived,  if  God  is  the  sub- 
stance and  everything  else  dependent  on  him,  then,  obviously, 
there  can  be  no  substance  outside  of  God.  Then  thought  and 
extension  cannot  be  attributes  of  separate  substances,  but  are 
merged  with  these  in  God;  they  are  attributes  of  one  single 
independent  substance.  Everything  in  the  universe  is  dependent 
on  it;  God  is  the  cause  and  bearer  of  all  qualities  and  events, 
the  one  principle  in  which  all  things  find  their  being.  He  is 
the  one  thinking  and  extended  substance, — the  dualism  of  sub- 
stances disappears,  but  the  dualism  of  attributes  remains.  There 
can  be  no  interaction  between  the  two  attributes,  between  mental 
and  physical  processes ;  the  two  series  are  parallel  to  each  other 
and  never  intersect.  And  wherever  there  are  mental  processes, 
there  must  be  physical  processes,  and  vice  versa ;  and  the  order 
and  connection  of  the  physical  realm  is  the  same  as  the  order 
and  connection  of  the  psychic  realm.  Dualism  gives  way  to 
monism,  theism  to  pantheism,  interaction  to  parallelism. 


Baruch  (Benedict)  de  Spinoza  (1632-1677)  was  born  in  Holland, 
the  son  of  a  wealthy  Portuguese-Jewish  merchant.  He  studied  the 
Hebrew  literature  with  the  purpose  of  becoming  a  rabbi,  but  found 
as  little  to  satisfy  him  in  Jewish  scholasticism  as  Bacon  and  Descartes 
had  found  in  the  Christian  system.  In  his  state  of  doubt  he  became 
acquainted  with  the  works  of  Descartes  and  renounced  Judaism.  Ex- 
pelled from  the  synagogue  (1656)  and  forced  to  leave  Amsterdam, 
he  took  up  his  abode  in  various  Dutch  towns  and  finally  settled  at 
The  Hague  (1669),  where  he  gained  his  livelihood  by  grinding  lenses. 
In  his  profound  love  of  truth,  his  unselfishness,  and  his  simple  mode 
of  life,  he  exemplified  the  virtues  of  the  philosopher.  But  his  panthe- 
istic system  aroused  intense  and  almost  universal  indignation,  and 
Spinoza  was  for  centuries  despised  as  an  atheist.  The  only  work  of 
his  that  appeared  under  his  own  name  during  his  lifetime  was  the 
exposition  of  Descartes's  system,  Cogitata  metaphysica,  1663.  The 
Tractatus  theologico-politicus,  in  which  he  critically  examined  the 
Mosaic  authorship  of  the  Pentateuch,  and  advocated  freedom  of  thought 
and  the  separation  of  Church  and  State,  was  published  anonymously. 
His  posthumous  works,  including  Ethics,  Tractatus  politicus,  Tractatus 
de  intellectus  emendatione,  and  Letters,  appeared  in  1677.  A  Dutch 
translation  of  the  Short  Treatise  (Tractatus  brevis  de  Deo  et  homine 
eiusque  felicitate),  his  earliest  work,  was  found  in  1850;  the  original 
Latin  and  Dutch  texts  are  lost. 


294 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 


Best  edition  of  works  by  Van  Vlooten  and  Land,  2  vols.,  1882-83. 
Translations  of  chief  works  by  Elwes,  2  vols.;  of  Ethics  by  White, 
2d  ed.;  of  Tractatus  de  intellectus  emendations  by  White;  of  Cogitata 
metaphysica  by  Britan;  of  Short  Treatise  by  A.  Wolf  (with  Life) ;  of 
Selections  by  Fullerton,  2d  ed.  (Elwes  and  White  used  in  this  book.) 

J.  Caird,  Spinoza;  Martineau,  A  Study  of  Spinoza;  Pollock,  Spinoza, 
His  Life  and  Philosophy,  2d  ed.;  Joachim,  A  Study  of  the  Ethics  of 
Spinoza;  Picton,  Spinoza;  Duff,  Spinoza's  Political  and  Ethical  Phi- 
losophy; K.  Fischer,  op.  cit.f  vol.  I,  2;  .Freudenthal,  Lebensgeschichte 
Spinozas,  and  Das  Leben  Spinozas;  Meinsma,  Spinoza  en  zijn  Kring; 
Erhardt,  Die  Philosophic  des  Spinoza;  Wahle,  Die  Ethik  Spinozas; 
Dunin-Borkowski,  Der  junge  Spinoza;  Worms,  La  morale  de  Spinoza; 
Brunschvicg,  Spinoza;  Couchoud,  Spinoza.  A  history  of  Spinozism  is 
given  in  Erhardt's  book,  pp.  1-66,  and  a  discussion  of  the  different 
interpretations  in  the  Appendix,  pp.  466-502. 

The  origin  of  Spinozism  has  been  sought  by  different  students  of 
his  doctrines  in  different  sources:  in  Averroism,  in  the  cabalistic  and 
pantheistic  literature  of  the  Middle  Ages,  in  the  writings  of  the 
Jewish  scholars  Moses  Maimonides  and  Creskas,*  in  the  speculations 
of  Giordano  Bruno.  Whatever  influence  any  or  all  of  these  teachings 
may  have  had  on  him,  the  indications  are  that  the  philosophy  of 
Descartes  furnished  the  building  stones  of  his  system.  The  problems' 
which  occupy  his  attention,  and  which  he  tries  to  solve,  are  problems 
which  grew  out  of  the  theories  of  the  great  French  rationalist,  and 
the  pantheistic  conception  which  characterizes  his  own  solution  was  a 
logical  consequence  of  the  Cartesian  notion  of  God  as  the  absolute 
substance.  It  is  possible,  however,  that  the  Neoplatonism  of  the 
medieval  Jewish  thinkers  led  him  to  appreciate  the  pantheistic  possi- 
bilities of  the  Cartesian  system. 

The  world  is  handled  in  the  Spinozistic  system  like  a  problem 
in  geometry.  Everything  is  said  to  follow  from  the  first  prin- 
ciple or  ground  of  the  universe  as  necessarily  as 
the  propositions  of  geometry  follow  from  their 
logical  presuppositions.  J»ust  as  in  a  mathematical  deduction 
the  consequences  are  not  mere  temporal  effects  but  as  eternal  as 
the  principle  itself,  so  things  follow  from  the  first  cause,  not 
as  an  evolution  in  time,  but  eternally,  sub  specie  ceternitatis. 
Time  is  a  mere  mode  of  thought,  modus  cogitandi,  there  is  no 
before  and  after,  but  only  eternity.  Causari  =  sequi,  causa  = 
ratio;  no  distinction  is  made  between  rational  or  logical  ground 
and  real  ground.  Thought  and  being  are  identical.  In  reality,  one 
thing  follows  another  or  is  caused:  the  universe  is  a  causal  chain 
in  which  each  link  is  necessarily  connected  with  the  preceding 


Method 


*  Maimonides  holds  that  to  conceive  God  as  the  bearer  of  many  attributes 
would  destroy  his  unity,  while  Creskas  defends  this  view. 


BENEDICT  SPINOZA  295 

link,  just  as  in  a  process  of  reasoning  every  conclusion  is  grounded 
on  premises.  Moreover,  just  as  a  proposition  is  the  necessary 
consequence  of  some  other  proposition  in  a  mathematical  demon- 
stration, everything  is  the  necessary  effect  of  something 'else  in 
nature :  the  whole  is  an  interrelated  system  in  which  every  mem- 
ber has  its  necessary  place.  That  is,  the  Spinozistic  system  is 
strictly  deterministic.  Again,  as  there  is  no  purpose  or  design 
in  mathematics,  there  is  no  purpose  or  design  in  nature ;  in  this 
sense,  the  system  is  anti-teleological.  How  could  there  be  design 
in  God?  Thought  is  an  attribute  of  the  underlying  substance, 
as  much  so  as  extended  nature,  and  cannot,  therefore,  precede 
the  latter  as  its  final  cause.  Pro  ascribe  purpose  to  God  is  to 
give  precedence  to  thinking,  and  thinking,  as  an  attribute  or 
manifestation  of  God,  is  on  the  same  level  with  extension. 

The  Spinozistic  system  is  presented  in  its  most  developed 
form  in  the  Ethics.  The  work  is  divided  into  five  parts, 
dealing  with  the  following  topics:  (1)  God, 
(2)  The  Nature  and  Origin  of  Mind,  (3)  The 
Nature  and  Origin  of  the  Emotions,  (4)  Human 
Bondage  and  the  Power  of  the  Emotions,  (5)  The  Power 
of  the  Intellect  or  Human  Liberty.  The  starting-point  of  the 
thought  is  the  definition  of  substance.  Substance  is  that  which 
exists  in  itself  or  independently  of  anything  else,  that  which 
does  not  need  the  conception  of  any  other  thing  in  order  to  be 
conceived:  nothing  can  be  conceived  without  presupposing  sub- 
stance, while  it  can  be  thought  without  presupposing  anything 
else ;  it  is  the  absolutely  independent  underlying  principle. 

From  the  definition  of  substance  certain  consequences  neces- 
sarily follow.  If  substance  is  absolutely  independent  being,  it 
must  be  infinite,  for  otherwise  it  would  not  be  independent. 
There  can  be  only  one  such  being,  otherwise,  again,  it  would  be 
limited  by  others  and  not  independent.  It  is  self-caused,  causa 
sui,  for  if  it  were  produced  by  anything  else,  it  would  be  de- 
pendent on  that.  It  is,  therefore,  free  in  the  sense  that  nothing 
outside  of  it  can  determine  it;  it  is  self-determined  in  that  all 
its  qualities  and  actions  follow  from  its  own  nature  as  necessarily 
as  the  properties  of  a  triangle  follow  from  the  nature  of  a  tri- 
angle. Individuality  or  personality  cannot  be  ascribed  to  sub- 
stance, for  these  imply  determination  or  limitation:  all  deter- 


296  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

mination  is  negation.  Hence,  neither  intelligence  nor  will, 
in  the  human  sense,  belong  to  it ;  it  does  not  think  and  plan  and 
decide,  it  does  not  act  according  to  conscious  purpose  or  design : 
such  teleology  is  entirely  foreign  to  its  nature.  "  I  confess,"  says 
Spinoza,  "  that  the  view  which  subjects  all  things  to  the  indif- 
ferent will  of  God  and  makes  them  -depend  on  divine  caprice, 
comes  nearer  the  truth  than  tfie  view  of  those  who  maintain 
that  God /does  everything  for/' the  sake  of  the  good.  For  these 
persons  seem  to  place  something  outside  of  God  which  is  inde- 
pendent of  him,  to  /which  he  looks  as  to  a  model  while  he  is 
at  work,  01?  at  which  he  aims  as  if  at  a  mark.  This  is,  indeed, 
nothing  elseVthan  subjecting  God  to  fate,  and  is  a  most  absurd 
view  of  him  whom  we  have  shown  to  be  the  first  and  only  free 
cause  of  the  essence  and  existence  of  things. " 

This  single,  eternal,  infinite,  self-caused,  necessary  principle 
of  things  is  called  God  or  Nature.  God  is  not  apart  from  the 
world,  as  Descartes  held,  an  external  transcendent  cause  acting 
on  it  from  without  (theism),  but  in 'the  world,  the  immanent 
principle  of  the  universe.  God  is  in  the  world  and  the  world 
in  him,  he  is  the  source  of  everything  that  is  (pantheism).  God 
and  the  world  are  one.  Cause  and  effect  are  not  distinct  here ; 
God  does  not  create  in  the  sense  of  producing  something  separate 
from,  and  external  to,  himself,  something  that  can  exist  apart 
from  him;  he  is  the  permanent  substance  or  substratum  or  es- 
sence in  the  things.  As  the  active  principle  or  source  of  all 
reality,  Spinoza,  using  an  old  scholastic  term,  calls  him  natura 
naturans;  as  the  plurality  of  objects,  the  effects  or  products  of 
the  principle,  he  calls  him  natura  naturata. 

How  else  shall  we  define  Nature,  or  God;  what  are  the  attri- 
butes of  universal  reality?  By  attribute  Spinoza  means  that 
which  the  intellect  perceives  as  constituting  the 
essence  of  substance.  Some  interpreters  (Hegel, 
Erdmann)  understand  by  this  that  attributes  are 
forms  of  our  knowledge,  not  really  belonging  to  God,  but  at- 
tributed to  him  by  human  thought.  Others  (K.  Fischer)  re- 
gard them  as  real  expressions  of  God's  nature,  not  merely  a? 
human  modes  of  thought,  but  actual  properties  of  God.  The 
latter  view  is  probably  the  correct  one ;  Spinoza,  the  rationalist, 
accepted  necessary  forms  of  thought  as  having  objective  validity : 


BENEDICT  SPINOZA  297 

what  reason  compels  us  to  think  has  more  than  mental  reality. 
And  yet  he  felt  a  certain  hesitancy  in  applying  definite  quali- 
ties to  the  infinite  ground  of  things,  all  determination  being 
negation.    But  he  tried  to  avoid  this  difficulty  by  predicating  .- 
of  the  infinite  substance  an  infinite  number  of  infinite  attributes :  i 
every  one  of  them,  that  is,  infinite  and  eternal  in  its  essence.  •! 
God  is  so  great  that  he  is  conceived  as  possessing  infinite  quali- 
ties in  an  infinite  degree. 

Of  these  infinite  attributes,  the  mind  of  man  can  grasp  but 
two,  extension  and  thought.  Nature  expresses  itself  in  an  infi- 
nite number  of  ways,  of  which  only  extension  and  thought  are 
knowable  by  man,  who  is  himself  a  physical  and  mental  being. 
God  or  nature,  therefore,  is  (at  least)  both  body  and  mind. 
Wherever,  then,  there  is  space  or  matter,  there  is  soul  or  mind, 
and  vice  versa ;  the  two  attributes,  being  essential  to  the  nature 
of  substance,  must  be  present  wherever  the  substance  is  found, 
and  that  is  everywhere.  Extension  and  thought  are  each  infi- 
nite in  its  own  kind,  but  not  absolutely  infinite,  that  is,  neither 
thought  nor  extension  is  the  sole  attribute ;  since  there  are  many 
other  attributes  of  God,  none  of  them  can  be  called  absolutely 
infinite.  These  attributes  are  absolutely  independent  of  one 
another  and  cannot  influence  each  other:  mind  cannot  produce 
changes  in  body  nor  the  body  changes  in  mind.  "  When  two 
things  have  nothing  in  common  with  one  another,  the  one  cannot 
be  the  cause  of  the  other ;  for  since  the  effect  would  contain  noth- 
ing that  belonged  to  the  cause,  everything  in  the  effect  would  be 
a  creation  out  of  nothing."  Spinoza  here  accepts  the  doctrine 
of  the  occasionalists  and  Malebranche,  that  only  like  can  pro- 
duce like,  that  mind  cannot  produce  motion  nor  motion  mind. 

We  cannot  explain  the  mental  by  the  physical,  as  materialism 
does,  nor  the  physical  by  the  mental,  as  spiritualism  does.    Both 
the  mental  and  the  physical  realms,  the  world  of  thought  and  .- 
the  world  of  motion,  are  manifestations  of  one  and  the  same  ; 
universal  reality,  both  having  equal  rank;  neither  is  the  cause 
or  the  effect  of  the  other,  both  are  the  effects  of  the  same  cause, 
both  flow  from  the  same  substance.    The  one  indivisible  nature 
or  God,  regarded  from  one  angle,  is  a  space-occupying,  moving 
thing ;  looked  at  from  another,  it  is  an  ideal  world.    This  is  what 
we  now  call  psycho-physical  parallelism.     And  the  order  and 


298  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

connection  in  the  one  realm  are  the  same  as  in  the  other.  To  my 
notion  of  a  circle  there  corresponds  a  real  circle  existing  in 
nature. 

Attributes  appear  in  specific  ways  or  modes.    Modes  are  de- 
fined as  "  the  affections  or  modifications  of  substance,  or  that 
which  is  in  another  thing  through  which  also  it 
Modes™  *s  conceived."     That  is,   a  mode   or  modification 

is  always  the  modification  of  some  thing ;  it  cannot 
be  conceived  except  as  the  mode  of  a  thing.  The  attribute  of 
extension  manifests  itself  in  particular  figured  bodies,  thought 
expresses  itself  in  particular  ideas  and  acts  of  will.  We  never 
have  abstract  thought  as  such,  a  barren  stretch  of  thought,  nor 
abstract  extension  as  such,  but  always  particular  ideas  and  par- 
ticular bodies.  We  cannot,  however,  think  the  latter  apart  from 
attributes, — motion  or  rest,  for  example,  without  extension;  in- 
tellect or  will,  without  mind. 

In  one  sense,  modes  are  infinite  and  necessary,  in  another 
sense  they  are  finite  and  temporal.  Species,  for  example,  are 
eternal,  whereas  the  particular  individuals  pass  away;  particu- 
lars perish,  the  genus  remains.  Intellects  and  wills,  or  persons, 
have  always  existed  and  will  always  exist,  but  particular  human 
beings  are  born  and  die.  The  eternal  infinite  substance  expresses 
itself  forever  in  definite  ways,  in  an  eternal  and  necessary  system 
of  physical  and  mental  forms,  in  a  system  of  ideas  and  in  a  sys- 
tem of  bodies.  Such  an  infinite  and  necessary  system  of  ideas, 
the  totality  of  all  ideas,  Spinoza  calls  the  absolutely  infinite  in- 
tellect; the  system  of  modes  of  extension  he  calls  motion  and 
rest ;  *  the  two  together  constitute  the  face  of  the  whole  uni- 
verse. The  face  of  the  whole  universe  always  remains  the  same, 
although  its  parts  undergo  constant  change.  Nature,  as  a  whole, 
may  here  be  compared  to  an  individual  organism,  the  elements 
of  which  come  and  go,  but  whose  form  (face)  remains  the 
same. 

The  particular  finite  objects  and  minds  are  not  direct  effects 
of  the  substance  of  God;  each  finite  thing  has  its  efficient  cause 
in  some  other  finite  thing,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  The  par- 

*  Motion  and  rest  are  the  modes  of  extension.  Spinoza  assumes  that 
since  there  can  be  no  motion  without  extension,  extension  must  be  the 
ground  of  motion.  And  if  extension  is  the  ground  of  motion,  then  motion 
is  a  mode  of  extension. 


BENEDICT  SPINOZA  299 

tieular  bodies  form  a  chain  of  interconnected  members,  a  strict 
causal  nexus,  and  the  particular  ideas  form  a  similar  chain. 
The  particular  idea  in  my  mind  owes  its  existence  to  some  other 
idea,  and  so  on;  the  particular  physical  object  before  me  owes 
its  existence  to  some  other  physical  object;  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  one,  the  other  would  not  be.  It  was  not,  however,  essen- 
tial to  the  universal  substance  that  this  or  that  particular  one 
should  have  been;  neither  one  follows  of  necessity  from  the  na- 
ture of  God.  Yet  not  a  single  thought  or  body  could  exist  were 
it  not  for  the  permanent  underlying  reality  to  which  all  things 
belong,  of  which  all  are  states.  Spinoza  is  well  aware  that  we 
cannot  logically  derive  this  or  that  particular  thing,  the  finite 
mode,  from  the  notion  of  substance;  that  we  can  never  deduce 
particulars  from  concepts.  Given  the  notion  of  an  infinite  ex- 
tended and  thinking  substance,  we  cannot  show  that  such  and 
such  an  individual  necessarily  follows.  But  we  can  say,  Spinoza 
believes,  that  given  such  a  substance,  thoughts  and  bodies  neces- 
sarily follow.  As  all  the  properties  of  the  triangle  follow  from 
the  definition  of  the  triangle,  so  all  the  properties  of  the  uni- 
verse follow  necessarily  from  the  substance.  We  cannot,  how- 
ever, deduce  from  the  concept  of  the  triangle  the  existence,  num- 
ber, size,  and  shape  of  different  triangles.  Similarly,  we  cannot 
deduce  from  the  notion  of  substance  or  God  the  existence,  num- 
ber, and  properties  of  the  different  finite  objects  in  the  world, 
the  so-called  modes  or  forms,  in  which  substance  appears,  the 
particular  concrete  men,  plants,  and  bodies  now  existing.  These 
do  not  follow  necessarily  from  the  idea  of  substance,  they  are 
contingent  and  accidental  as  regards  God.  Spinoza  explains 
them  as  effects  of  each  other,  as  it  were.  Here  we  are  confined 
to  the  ordinary  scientific  explanations,  which  do  not  go  very 
deep ;  rational  explanation,  sub  specie  ceternitatis,  is  out  of  the 
question. 

Conceived  under  the  form  of  eternity,  God  is  his  infinite 
attributes;  conceived  under  the  form  of  time,  or  through  the 
imagination,  God  is  the  world.  To  the  senses  and  the  imagina- 
tion, nature  appears  in  the  form  of  isolated  separate  phenomena, 
but  that  is  a  purely  abstract  and  superficial  way  of  viewing  it ; 
to  the  understanding,  nature  is  one  universal  substance  and  the 
particular  phenomenon  but  a  limited  form  of  it,  a  negation  of 


300  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

all  the  other  forms  in  which  substance  expresses  itself.  No 
mode,  then,  can  exist  except  as  the  mode  or  modification  of  a 
substance;  the  substance  is  the  abiding  principle,  the  mode  is 
transitory.  The  particular  mode,  therefore,  is  not  permanent, 
it  is  but  a  temporal  expression  of  the  substance. 

Spinoza's  doctrine  of  modes  is  determined  by  his  rationalistic 
presuppositions.  Logically,  we  cannot  deduce  the  particular 
modes  from  the  notion  of  God,  hence  they  have  no  true  reality, 
are  not  essential.  And  yet  the  essence  of  things,  the  universals 
of  scholasticism,  are  necessary  ideas  in  God;  besides,  experience 
seems  to  show  that  though  particulars. do  not  endure,  the  classes 
(species,  genus)  to  which  they  belong  do.  The  conclusion  is, 
therefore,  drawn  that  modes  are  infinite,  necessary,  and  eternal 
in  the  sense  that  the  face  of  the  universe  remains  unchanged.  But 
it  is  hard  to  see  why  particular  modes  should  not  be  necessary 
consequences  of  substance  since  they  have  their  source  in  it, 
and  since  everything  flows  necessarily  from  it.  Spinoza's  trou- 
ble is  caused  by  his  attempt  to  explain  the  universe  logically. 
Influenced  by  the  method  of  geometry,  he  holds  that  things 
follow  eternally  from  the  first  principle,  which  would  make 
change  and  evolution  impossible;  experience,  however,  convinces 
him  that  there  is  change.  In  order  to  do  justice  to  both  logic 
and  the  facts,  Spinoza  invents  the  doctrine  of  necessary  modes 
and  contingent  modes. 

According  to  Descartes,  there  are  corporeal  substances  and 
soul-substances,  which  act  on  one  another.  According  to  Spinoza, 

there  is  but  one  substance  or  principle,  on  which 

Human  Mind      ,,  ,    ,,       ,      .     ,         -,  ,   ,      ,          , 

all   processes,   both   physical   and  mental,   depend 

and  of  which  they  are  the  processes.  Hence,  there  can  be  no 
such  thing  as  a  soul  or  ego,  a  spiritual  substance  that  has 
thoughts,  feelings,  and  volitions;  the  mind  consists  of  its 
thoughts,  feelings,  and  volitions.  Such  states  are  not  effects  of 
bodies  or  of  bodily  processes ;  ideas  or  states  of  mind  correspond 
to  bodily  processes,  the  two  series  are  parallel;  they  are,  how- 
ever, processes  of  one  and  the  same  thing,  expressed  in  two  dif- 
ferent ways.  They  do  not  influence  one  another,  there  is  no 
interaction  between  them. 

All  things,  therefore,  are  modes  or  forms  of  matter,  and  modes 
or  forms  of  mind:  all  bodies  are  animate  and  all  souls  have 


BENEDICT  SPINOZA  301 

bodies.  Where  there  is  body,  there  are  ideas  or  mental  phe- 
nomena ;  wherever  there  are  mental  processes,  there  are  bodies. 
The  human  mind  is,  therefore,  called  by  Spinoza  the  idea  of 
the  human  body;  the  body  or  motion  is  an  object  or  process 
in  space  corresponding  to  an  idea.  The  human  body  is  very 
complex,  it  is  made  up  of  many  parts.  So,  too,  the  £uman 
mind  is  composed  of  many  ideas.  The  more  complex  a  body, 
the  more  adequate  knowledge  is  possible  to  the  mind  correspond- 
ing to  it.  The  human  mind  is  not  only  the  idea  of  the  body, 
but  is  at  the  same  time  conscious  of  its  own  actions,  or  self- 
conscious;  hence  Spinoza  calls  it  "  the  idea  of  the  idea  of  the 
body/'  or  an  "  idea  of  the  mind."  The  mind,  however,  knows 
itself  only  in  so  far  as  it  perceives  the  ideas  of  the  modifications 
of  the  body. 

The  order  and  connection  of  ideas  is  the  same  as  the  order 
and  connection  of  things ;  the  order  and  connection  of  the  actions 
and  passions  of  the  body  is  coincident  with  the  order  and  con- 
nection of  the  actions  and  passions  of  the  mind.  Every  thing  is 
both  mind  and  body,  idea  and  ideatum.  All  ideas  or  thoughts 
in  the  universe  form  a  unified  mental  system  corresponding  to 
the  natural  system.  Every  soul  is  a  part  of  the  infinite  intellect, 
which  is  composed  of  an  infinite  number  of  souls  and  ideas  and 
is  an  eternal  mode  of  the  thought  of  God.  If  all  this  is  true, 
and  if  the  physical  order  or  nexus  is  causal,  the  mental  series 
must  also  be  causally  determined. 

Nothing  can  happen  in  the  body  that  is  not  perceived  by  the 
mind,  that  is,  that  has  not  a  corresponding  mental  state.  In 
this  sense,  the  human  mind  must  perceive  everything  that  hap- 
pens in  the  human  body.  But  it  does  not  know  the  body  itself, 
nor  that  the  body  exists,  except  through  ideas  corresponding  to 
such  modifications  of  the  body.  In  the  same  way,  it  knows  the 
existence  and  nature  of  other  bodies:  because  its  body  is  af- 
fected by  other  bodies.  All  such  sense-perceived  knowledge, 
however,  is  not  clear  and  distinct,  but  confused;  we  gain  no 
adequate  knowledge  of  our  own  body  or  of  external  bodies 
through  these  ideas.  As  often  as  the  mind  is  determined  from 
without,  by  a  chance  coincidence,  its  knowledge  is  confused;  it 
is  only  when  it  is  determined  from  within  that  it  contemplates 
things  clearly  and  distinctly:  then  it  beholds  several  things  at 


302 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 


once,  and  is  determined  to  understand  in  what  they  differ,  agree, 
or  oppose  one  another. 

We  are  here  carried  over  into  Spinoza's  theory  of  knowledge, 
which  he  discusses  in  Part  II  of  the  Ethics  and  in  his  work  on 
the  Emendation  of  the  Intellect.  (1)  Obscure  and 
Knowledge  inadequate  ideas  have  their  source  in  the  imagi- 
nation ;  they  depend  on  sense-perception,  and  sen- 
sations have  as  their  object  the  modifications  of  the  body. 
Uncritical  experience  and  mere  opinion  do  not  yield  genuine 
knowledge.  (2)  We  also  have  adequate  knowledge,  clear  and 
distinct  ideas,  rational  knowledge.  Reason  contemplates  things 
as  they  really  are,  knows  their  necessary  connection,  conceives 
them  under  the  form  of  eternity.  It  comprehends  the  universal 
essences  of  things  in  the  particular  qualities  which  these  things 
have  in  common  with  all  things,  and  understands  these  neces- 
sary and  eternal  essences  in  their  relation  to  God's  being:  such 
knowledge  is  self-evident,  it  carries  its  own  evidence  with  it ;  in 
this  sense  truth  is  its  own  criterion;  even  as  the  light  reveals 
both  itself  and  the  darkness,  so  truth  illuminates  itself  and  error. 
(3)  Intuitive  knowledge  Spinoza  calls  the  highest  kind  of  knowl- 
edge; it  is  hard  to  say,  however,  just  how  it  differs  from  the 
preceding  stage.  By  it  everything  is  conceived  as  necessarily 
grounded  in  God's  being  and  following  from  it:  ''it  advances 
from  an  adequate  idea  of  the  objective  essence  of  certain  at- 
tributes of  God  to  the  adequate  essence  of  things."  The  imagi- 
nation does  not  see  things  whole;  it  loses  itself  in  details,  does 
not  grasp  the  unity  of  phenomena,  does  not  understand  their 
meaning.  It  is  the  source  of  prejudice,  illusion,  and  error;  it 
gives  rise  to  the  belief  in  so-called  general  ideas  existing  inde- 
pendently of  individuals,  in  final  causes  or  purposes  in  nature, 
in  spirits,  in  a  God  having  a  human  form  and  human  passions, 
in  free  will,  and  other  errors.  Eeason  and  intuitive  knowledge 
repudiate  all  such  products  of  the  imagination  as  inadequate; 
they  alone  enable  us  to  distinguish  between  truth  and  error. 
Whoever  has  a  true  idea  knows  it. 

Error  Spinoza  conceives  as  mere  lack  of  knowledge.  No  idea 
is  as  such  either  true  or  false;  what  makes  it  true  or  false  is 
the  assumption  of  the  presence  of  an  object  when  it  is  not 
present.  There  is  lacking  the  knowledge  that  the  idea  is  a 


BENEDICT  SPINOZA  303 

mere  idea,  an  illusion.  "  We  form  inadequate  ideas  because 
we  are  a  part  of  some  thinking  being,  some  of  whose  thoughts 
form  the  essence  of  our  soul  in  their  entirety,  others  only  in 
part." 

In  so  far  as  the  soul  knows  ideas,  it  is  intelligence  Dr  intellect, 
in  so  far  as  it  affirms  and  denies  what  is  true  and  false,  we  call 
it  will.  Neither  the  intellect  nor  the  will  is  a  fac- 
ulty of  the  mind;  there  are  no  soul-faculties,  only 
ideas  exist  in  the  mind.  The  soul  is  reduced  to 
ideas,  it  is  an  idea  of  the  body:  it  mirrors  physiological  proc- 
esses. No  distinction  is  made  by  Spinoza  between  knowing, 
feeling  or  emotion,  and  willing.  Volitions,  too,  are  nothing  but 
ideas  of  things ;  the  particular  act  of  will  and  the  particular  idea 
are  identical.  Hence,  intelligence  and  will  are  essentially  the 
same:  the  will  is  an  idea  affirming  or  negating  itself.  This  act 
of  affirmation  or  negation  (judgment)  is  not,  as  with  Descartes, 
an  act  of  free  choice,  or  capricious,  but  determined  by  the  idea 
itself.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  free  will;  everything  in 
nature  is  determined,  everything  follows  necessarily  from  the 
universal  substance.  The  human  soul  is  merely  a  mode  of  the 
divine  thought;  besides,  every  particular  act  of  will  is  deter- 
mined by  another  mode,  as  we  have  seen.  Moreover,  there  is 
no  causal  relation  between  mind  and  body :  the  will  cannot  move 
the  body.  Everything  physical  obeys  mechanical  laws.  The  de- 
cision of  the  will,  desire,  and  the  causal  determination  of  the 
body  are  one  and  the  same  thing ;  considered  under  the  attribute 
of  thought  we  call  it  decision,  under  the  attribute  of  extension 
we  call  it  determination.  Man  thinks  he  is  free  because  he  is 
ignorant  of  causes ;  the  falling  stone  would  regard  itself  as  free 
if  it  were  conscious.  Because  he  thinks  himself  free,  he  forms 
the  ideas  of  praise  and  blame,  sin  and  guilt.  Spinoza  identifies 
human  freedom  with  caprice  or  indeterminism ;  in  the  case  of 
God,  however,  freedom  means  action  in  accordance  with  his 
nature. 

Will  and  intelligence,  then,  are  identical.  Corresponding  to 
the  stages  of  the  intellect:  sensation  or  imagination  and  reason, 
we  have  different  stages  of  the  will:  passions  and  will  proper. 
The  passions  are  confused  and  inadequate  ideas  corresponding 
to  physiological  states, — the  passive  side  of  the  human  mind.  To 


304  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

our  ignorance  and  confusion  are  due  the  passions  of  love,  hate, 
hope,  and  fear.  In  so  far  as  the  mind  has  clear  and  distinct 
(adequate)  ideas,  in  so  far  as  it  knows  and  understands,  it  is 
not  passive  but  active:  it  is  rational  will.  In  this  sense,  man 
is  evidently  free;  here  he  is  not  under  mechanical  compulsion 
but  under  the  sway  of  teleology,  governed  by  purpose.  How  this 
is  possible  in  Spinoza's  system  is  another  question.  He  says: 
"  If  we  mean  by  a  man  acting  under  compulsion  one  who  acts 
contrary  to  his  will,  then  I  admit  that  we  are  in  no  wise  com- 
pelled in  certain  things  and  in  so  far  have  free  will. ' '  Spinoza 's 
main  contention  is  against  absolute  freedom  of  choice  or  a 
groundless  will.  When  the  soul  comprehends  the  meaning  of 
things,  or  has  adequate  ideas,  it  has  no  passions  and  ceases  to 
be  in  bondage.  The  more  confused  a  man's  knowledge,  the  more 
he  is  passion's  slave,  the  more  limited,  the  more  impotent  and 
dependent  he  is.  The  clearer  his  knowledge,  the  more  rational 
he  is, — the  better  he  understands  the  universe  in  all  its  relations, 
— the  freer  he  will  be  from  passions  and  the  less  dependent  on 
them.  To  know  means  to  be  free  from  hate  and  fear,  anger  and 
envy,  yea  even  from  love  and  hope,  pity  and  repentance.  He 
who  knows  the  true  causes  of  things  or  sees  them  in  their  nec- 
essary relations  to  God,  will  love  God:  this  intellectual  love  of 
God  (amor  Dei]  is  the  love  of  God  for  himself,  for  man  is  a 
mode  of  God.  And  in  so  far  as  God  loves  himself,  he  also  loves 
men,  for  they  are  a  part  of  him. 

The  passions  are  not  errors  of  human  nature,  but  properties 
necessarily  belonging  to  it,  hence  they  must  be  studied  as  if 
they  were  "  lines,  surfaces,  and  bodies."  There  are  three  fun- 
damental passions:  desire,  joy,  sorrow.  The  basis  of  all  pas- 
sion is  the  desire  for  self-preservation.  Every  thing  strives  to 
maintain  itself  in  its  being;  in  man,  too,  there  is  such  striving 
(appetitus)  to  preserve  the  bodily  and  mental  life.  What  hu- 
man nature  strives  for,  the  human  mind  is  conscious  of;  this 
conscious  striving  is  voluntas,  will,  when  related  to  soul  alone; 
or  cupiditas,  conscious  appetite,  when  related  to  soul  and  body. 
What  promotes  our  desires  is  good,  the  opposite  bad.  Every 
man,  therefore,  aims  to  increase  his  being;  when  it  is  intensi- 
fied, he  feels  joy,  otherwise  sorrow.  Joy  is  the  transition  from 
less  to  greater  perfection;  sorrow,  the  transition  from  greater 


BENEDICT  SPINOZA  305 

to  less.  Joy  is  not  perfection  itself ;  if  a  man  were  born  perfect, 
he  would  not  have  the  feeling  of  joy.  Man  seeks  to  preserve 
the  joyful  feelings  and  to  rid  himself  of  sorrow.  We  love  the 
causes  of  what  pleases  us,  hate  those  injuring  us.  The  cause 
of  a  pleasure  or  pain  conceived  as  future  is  hope  or  fear.  The 
individual  believes  he  is  the  cause  of  his  own  acts,  hence  he  feels 
self-satisfaction  when  they  are  pleasant  and  remorse  when  they 
are  painful.  The  more  pleasurable  feelings  are,  the  more  active 
they  are:  the  more  active  we  are  and  the  more  we  feel  our 
power.  Hence,  such  emotions  as  envy  and  pity  are  bad  for  us, 
they  lower  our  sense  of  power  and  our  vitality.  Like  Descartes, 
Spinoza  is  one  of  the  forerunners  of  modern  physiological 
psychology. 

The  impelling  motive  of  Spinoza's  thought  was  ethical  and 
religious :  ' '  the  mind  '&  highest  good  is  the  knowledge  of  God, 
and  the  mind's  highest  virtue  is  to  know  God." 
The  end  can  be  attained  only  through  philosophy ; 
ethics  must  be  based  on  metaphysics.  The  system 
culminates  in  ethics:  the  title  of  our  philosopher's  chief  work 
is  Ethics.  With  Hobbes,  he  starts  out  from  egoistic  premises, 
but  modifies  them  in  such  a  way  as  to  weaken  their  effect.  Every 
being  strives  to  preserve  its  own  being,  and  this  striving  is  virtue. 
Virtue^is,  therefore,  gower;  everything  that  tends  to  diminish 
tfiepower  of  the  body  or  mind  is  bad :  pity  and  sorrow  are  bad, 
joy  is  good.  Nature  demands  nothing  contrary  to  nature,  hence 
it  demands  that  every  one  love  himself,  his  utility,  and  strive 
for  everything  that  leads  to  greater  perfection.  The  power  of 
nature  is  the  power  of  God  himself;  each  individual,  therefore, 
has  the  highest  right  to  all  he  regards  as  useful  to  himself  and 
to  appropriate  it  in  every  way,  whether  by  force,  strategy,  or 
entreaties.  With  perfect  right  the  larger  fishes  take  possession 
of  the  water  and  devour  the  little  ones.  So  far,  the  doctrine 
is  bald  egoism :  might  makes  right.  Spinoza,  however,  does  not 
stop  here.  Virtuous  action  is  rational  action:  it  is  only  when 
the  soul  has  adequate  ideas,  or  knows,  that  it  may  be  said  to 
be  really  acting.  Passion  is  not  power,  but  weakness,  slavery. 
Every  man  should  seek  what  is  truly  useful  to  him,  and  reason 
tells  him  that  nothing  is  useful  to  the  soul  except  what  is  a 
means  to  knowledge.  In  life  it  is  before  all  things  useful  to 


306  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

perfect  the  understanding  or  reason;  in  this  alone  man's  high- 
est happiness  or  blessedness  consists ;  indeed,  blessedness  is  noth- 
ing else  than  contentment  of  spirit,  which  arises  from  the  in- 
tuitive knowledge  of  God.  To  perfect  the  undertanding  is 
nothing  other  than  to  understand  God,  God 's  attributes,  and  the 
actions  which  follow  from  the  necessity  of  his  nature. 

Moreover,  there  is  nothing  more  useful  to  a  man,  in  his  desire 
to  perfect  his  being,  than  unity  of  purpose  among  men,  nothing 
more  excellent  than  that  all  should  so,  in  all  points,  agree  that 
the  minds  and  bodies  of  all  should  form,  as  it  were,  one  single 
mind  and  one  single  body.  Nothing  helps  a  man  to  preserve 
his  real  being  more  than  another  rational  man  who  seeks  his 
own  true  utility ;  hence,  men  will  be  most  useful  to  one  another 
if  each  will  seek  his  own  true  good  or  act  under  the  guidance  of 
reason.  Consequently,  men  who  are  governed  by  reason  desire 
nothing  for  themselves  which  they  do  not  also  desire  for  the 
rest  of  mankind,  and  hence  are  just,  faithful,  and  honorable 
in  their  conduct.  Whatever  is  good  for  other  men  is  also  good 
for  me.  Hence,  love  of  enemy  is  good;  hatred,  anger,  revenge, 
envy,  and  contempt  are  evil.  Humility,  self-denial,  remorse, 
and  hope  are  not  good,  though  they  may  prepare  weak-minded 
persons  for  a  more  rational  life. 

In  the  state  of  nature  every  man  has  the  right  to  do  what 
he  can  do ;  might  makes  right.  But  conflict  would  arise  in  such 
a  situation,  for  men  overshoot  their  powers,  hence  it  is  necessary 
that  men  relinquish  their  natural  rights  in  order  that  all  may 
live  in  peace  (social  contract).  This  is  done  in  the  State,  which 
limits  natural  rights  and  the  caprice  of  the  individual  in  the 
interests  of  general  welfare.  It  is  only  in  organized  society  that 
justice  and  injustice,  merit  and  guilt  have  meaning;  that  is  to 
say,  morality  is  justified  on  the  ground  that  it  makes  social  lif<3 
possible. 

Spinoza's  ethics  is  individualistic  in  the  sense  that  its  funda- 
mental motive  is  the  desire  for  individual  perfection  or  happi- 
ness. A  man  should  seek  his  own  interest,  his  highest  interest 
is  knowledge  of  the  universe  or  God,  which  brings  peace  of  mind ; 
with  this  end  in  view  it  is  to  his  interest  to  regard  the  welfars 
of  others.  It  is  universalistic  when  it  teaches  that  the  highest 
good  of  the  mind  is  the  knowledge  of  God  and  the  highest  virtu  3 


JOHN;  LOCKE  207 

of  the  mind  to  know  God.    The  supreme  good  is  the  love  of  God 
which  comes  from  an  adequate  knowledge  of  him. 

Our  highest  good  consists  in  the  intellectual  love  of  God, 
which  is  eternal,  like  reason  itself.  The  human  mind  cannot  be 
absolutely  destroyed  with  the  body,  but  something  of  it  remains 
which  is  eternal,  as  something  remains  of  the  body,  which  is 
eternal.  We  feel  and  know  by  experience  that  we  are  eternal, 
and  this  existence  of  the  mind  cannot  be  limited  by  time  nor  mani- 
fested through  duration. 

The  term  God  is  variously  employed  in  the  Spinozistic  system : 
He  is  identified  with  the  universe,  or  he  is  identified  with  his 
attributes,  or  he  is  the  absolute  unified  substance 
with  its  infinite   attributes,   or  he   is  the  unified   Q^10n  °f 
substance  itself,  higher  than  these  attributes.    His 
real   meaning   most  likely   is  that   God   is   the   universe   con- 
ceived as  an  eternal  and  necessary  unity,  an  organic  whole,  a 
unity  in  diversity. 

Spinoza  expressly  denies  personality  and  consciousness  to  God : 
he  has  neither  intelligence,  feeling,  nor  will;  he  does  not  act 
according  to  purpose,  but  everything  follows  necessarily  from 
his  nature,  according  to  law ;  his  action  is  causal,  not  purposive. 
God's  thinking  is  constituted  by  the  sum-total  of  the  ideas  in 
the  world.  He  has  the  power  or  attribute  of  thought  which 
expresses  itself  in  the  absolutely  infinite  intellect  or  in  the 
eternal  and  necessary  modes  of  thinking,  and  these,  in  turn, 
express  themselves  in  passing  human  minds.  Spinoza  sometimes, 
however,  speaks  of  God  having  a  knowledge  of  his  own  essence 
and  of  all  that  follows  from  it. 

DEVELOPMENT  OF  EMPIRICISM 

48.   JOHN  LOCKE 

Hobbes,  as  we  have  seen,  was  a  rationalist  in  his  ideal  of 
knowledge.     With  Descartes  he  held  that  mere  experience  will 
not  give  us  certainty.    At  the  same  time,  he  agreed 
with  his  compatriot  Bacon  that  sensation  is  the 
source  of  what  we  know.    Here  were  two  lines  of  thought  which 


308  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

did  not  seem  to  fit  together  in  the  system ;  the  sensationalistic 
origin  of  knowledge  appeared  to  undermine  the  validity  of 
knowledge,  to  destroy  its  certainty.  Hobbes  himself  felt  the 
difficulty  and  was  led  by  it  to  occasional  skeptical  conclusions 
concerning  physics.  To  John  Locke  this  problem  becomes  the 
all-important  one;  in  him  philosophy  turns  to  the  theory  of 
knowledge  and  undertakes  an  examination  of  the  nature,  origin, 
and  validity  of  knowledge, — an  * '  essay  concerning  human  under- 
standing. ' ' 

John  Locke  (1632-1704)  studied  philosophy,  natural  science,  and 
medicine  at  Oxford.  He  was  repelled  by  the  scholastic  methods  of 
instruction  which  still  prevailed  at  the  university,  but  found  great 
satisfaction  in  the  writings  of  Descartes.  For  many  years  (1666-1683) 
he  was  in  the  service  of  the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  as  secretary  and  as 
tutor  to  his  son  and  grandson,  and  followed  his  patron  to  Holland 
into  exile.  Returning  to  England  (1689)  after  the  deposal  of  James  II 
and  the  ascension  of  William  of  Orange  to  the  throne,  he  held  several 
important  public  offices,  and  spent  the  remaining  years  of  his  life 
(1700-1704)  in  the  household  of  Sir  Francis  Masham,  whose  wife  was 
the  daughter  of  the  philosopher  Cudworth. 

Among  his  works  are :  An  Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding, 
1690;  Two  Treatises  on  Government,  1690;  Letters  concerning  Tolera- 
tion, 1689,  ff. ;  Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education,  1693 ;  The  Reason- 
ableness of  Christianity,  1695.  The  two  treatises  On  the  Conduct  of 
the  Understanding  and  Elements  of  Natural  Philosophy  appeared 
posthumously. 

Collected  Works,  1853;  philosophical  works,  edited  by  St.  John,  in 
Bohn's  Library.  Essay  ed.  by  Fraser,  2  vols. ;  Selections  from  Essay  by 
Russell. 

Fox  Bourne,  Life  of  Locke,  2  vols.;  monographs  by  Fraser,  Fowler, 
S.  Alexander,  Fechtner,  Marion.  Green,  Introduction  to  Hume;  Moore, 
Existence,  Meaning  and  Reality  in  Locke's  Essay;  Curtis,  Locke's 
Ethical  Philosophy;  Thilly,  Locke's  Relation  to  Descartes,  Phil.  Rev., 
IX,  6;  Cousin,  La  philosophie  de  Locke;  Ollin,  La  philosophic  generale 
de  Locke;  Bastide,  Locke:  ses  theories  politiques,  etc.;  de  Fries,  Sub- 
stanzlehre  Lockes;  Keyserling,  Willenstheorie  bei  Locke  und  Hume; 
Crous,  Religionsphilosophische  Lehren  Lockes;  von  Hertling,  Locke  und 
die  Schule  von  Cambridge;  monographs  on  the  relation  of  Locke  and 
Leibniz  by  Hartenstein,  von  Benoit,  and  Thilly.  See  also  the  general 
works  on  English  philosophy  mentioned  pp.  254,  f.,  and  Hibben,  Phi- 
losophy of  the  Enlightenment. 

Philosophy,  according  to  Locke,  is  the  true  knowledge  of 
things,  including  the  nature  of  things  (physics},  that  which 
man  ought  to  do  as  a  rational  voluntary  agent  (practica,  or 
ethics),  and  the  ways  and  means  of  attaining  and  communi- 


JOHN  LOCKE  309 

eating  such  knowledge  (semiotics,  or  logic,  or  critic).  As  the 
most  important  of  the  three,  Locke  regards  the  problem  of 
knowledge,  holding  that  before  we  set  ourselves  upon  inquiries, 
it  is  necessary  to  examine  our  own  abilities  and  see 

what  our  understandings  are,  or  are  not,  fitted  to    Origin  of 

...       _,  .  ,     .     ,  .  Knowledge 

deal  with.     This  he  undertakes  to  do  in  his  mam 

work,  Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding.  But,  he  de- 
clares, to  tell  what  is  certain  knowledge,  what  not,  what  the 
limits  of  our  knowing  are,  we^must  first  study  the  origin  of 
our  ideas.  Much  depenOs  on  discovering  the  source  from  which 
our  knowledge  springs,  ibxif\jt  i|s  true,  as  Descartes  and  many 
others  held,  that  we  have  liXviflnate  knowledge  of  principles, 
there  would  seem  to  be  ^»er^easBn  for  questioning  its  validity. 
The  problem  of  innate  ideas  isyiheraire,  taken  up  by  the  Eng- 
lish thinker  in  the  first  book^oi  his  Ittssay,  which,  however,  was 
written  last. 

Assuming  that  the  mind  must  be  conscious  of  its  innate  prin- 
ciples, if  there  be  any, — since  nothing  can  be  said  to  be  in  the 
mind  of  which  it  is  unconscious, — Locke  proceeds  to  refute  the 
doctrine  of  inborn  truth.  There  are  no  speculative  or  practical 
principles  present  to  the  minds  of  men,  and  even  if  there  were, 
they  might  have  been  acquired  in  the  same  way  as  other  truths. 
If  a  principle  can  be  imprinted  on  the  soul  without  being  known, 
it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  between  what  is  native  and  what 
not.  It  cannot  be  said  that  we  first  become  aware  of  such 
truths  when  we  begin  to  exercise  our  reason,  for  children,  the 
uneducated,  and  savages  are  a  long  while  in  possession  of  their 
reason  without  knowing  them.  Nor  is  immediate  assent  to  a 
proposition  proof  of  its  primitiveness.  The  moral  laws,  too, 
cannot  be  called  innate,  for  they  are  not  self-evident  or  uni- 
versally recognized,  and  do  not  impel  men  to  action.  What 
to  many  peoples  is  sin,  is  duty  to  others.  To  say  that  such  ideas 
have  been  gradually  obscured  through  prejudice,  education,  and 
custom,  is  to  deny  their  universal  acceptance.  If  we  hold  that 
they  cannot  be  obliterated,  they  ought  to  appear  in  all  men,  and 
most  clearly  in  children  and  the  uncultured,  j That  the  idea  of 
God,  on  which  Descartes  lays  suclj  emphasis,  cannot  be  innate 
is  proved  by  thejfcct  that  entire  tribes  either  want  the  idea 
and  knowledge  o^Beity  or  have  no  clear  impression  of  him. 


310 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 


But  even  if  all  mankind  everywhere  had  a  notion  of  God,  it 
would  not  follow  that  the  idea  of  him  was  innate.  The  ideas 
of  fire,  the  sun,  heat,  or  number  are  not  proved  to  be  innate 
because  they  are  so  universally  received  and  known  amongst 
mankind.  A  rational  creature  reflecting  on  the  visible  marks 
of  divine  wisdom  and  power  in  the  works  of  creation,  cannot  miss 
the  discovery  of  a  Deity. 

In  short,  ideas  and  principles  are  just  as  little  innate  as  the 
arts  and  sciences.  The  mind,  in  its  first  being,  is  aplank  tablet, 
a  tabula  rasa,  a  "  dark  chamber,"  an  "  empty  cabinet,"  "  white 
paper,"  void  of  all  characters,  without  any  ideas.  The  question 
now  is,  how  comes  it  to  be  furnished?  Whence  has  it  all  the 
materials  of  reason  and  knowledge?  To  this  Locke  answers  in 
one  word, — from  experience;  in  that  all  our  knowledge  is 
founded;  and  from  that  it  ultimately  derives  itself.  The  two 
sources  of  all  our  ideas  are  sensation,  through  which  the  mind 
is  furnished  with  sensible  qualities,  and  reflection,  or  internal 
sense,  which  supplies  the  mind  with  ideas  of  its  own  operations, 
such  as  perception,  thinking,  doubting,  believing,  reasoning, 
knowing,  willing.  The  first  capacity  of  the  human  intellect  is, 
that  the  mind  is  fitted  to  receive  the  impressions  made  on  it, 
either  through  the  senses  by  outward  objects  or  by  its  own 
operations  when  it  reflects  on  them.  By  idea  Locke  means  what- 
soever the  mind  perceives  in  itself,  or  is  the  immediate  object 
of  perception,  thought,  or  understanding. 

The  ideas,  thus  received,  are  simple  ideas,  which  the  mind 
has  the  power  to  repeat,  compare,  and  unite,  even  to  an  almost 
infinite  variety,  and  so  can  make  at  pleasure  new  complex  ideas. 
But  no  understanding  has  the  power  to  invent  or  frame  one  new 
simple  idea  or  destroy  those  that  are  in  the  mind.  Some  of  these 
simple  ideas  come  into  our  minds  by  one  sense  only,  e.g.,  ideas 
o"f"color,  sound,  Cjtaste,'  heat,  cold,  solidity;  some  convey  them- 
selves into  the  mind  by  more  senses  than  one,  e.g.,  space  or  ex- 
tension, figure,  rest,  and  motion  (through  sight  and  touch). 
Some  are  had  by  reflection  only,  that  is,,  the  min^ 'observes  its 
own  actions  about  those  ideas  it  has,  and  gets  other  ideas  in  this 
way,  e.g.,  it  notices  its  operations  of  perception,  retention  (con- 
templation and  memory),  discerning,  comMJtig,  compounding; 
naming,  and  abstracting.  Some  ideas,  finall^^e  receive  through 


JOHN  LOCKE  811 

both  sensation  and  reflection,  as  pleasure  and  pain,  or  uneasiness, 
power,  existence,  unity,  succession,  or  duration. 

Most  of  the  ideas  of  sensation  are  not  the  likeness  of  some- 
thing existing  without  us,  not  exact  images  and  resemblances 
of  something  inherent  in  the  object.  The  objects  have  the  power 
to  produce  certain  ideas  in  us;  we  may  call  such  powers  quali- 
ties. Now,  some  of  these  qualities  belong  to  the  objects  them- 
selves, are  utterly  inseparable  from  them;  they  are  called  by 
Locke  original  or  primary  qualities;  such  are :  solidity,  extension, 
figure,  motion  or  rest,  and  number.  Qualities  which  are  nothing 
in  the  objects  themselves,  but  powers  to  produce  various  sensa- 
tions in  us  by  their  primary  qualities,  as  colors,  sounds,  tastes, 
etc.,  are  called  secondary  qualities. 

All  our  simple  ideas  are  received  through  the  inlets  before 
mentioned;  out  of  them  all  our  knowledge  is  made,  just  as  the 
words  are  made  out  of  the  twenty-six  letters  of  the  alphabet. 
External  and  internal  sensation  alone  are  the  windows  by  which 
light  is  let  into  the  dark  room  of  the  understanding.  But  the 
mind  can,  by  its  own  power,  put  together  these  ideas  it  has 
and  make  new  complex  ideas,  which  it  never  received  so  united ; 
it  can  set  two  ideas  by  one  another  so  as  to  take  a  view  of  them 
at  once,  by  which  way  it  gets  all  its  ideas  of  relations;  and  it 
can  separate  them  from  all  other  ideas  which  accompany  them 
in  their  real  existence,  which  is  called  abstraction.  The  mind  is 
passive  in  the  reception  of  all  its  simple  ideas,  but  exerts  power 
over  them  in  the  acts  just  described.  The  endless  number  of 
complex  ideas  may  be  all  embraced  under  three  heads:  modes, 
substances,  and  relations. 

Our  ideas  of  modes  are  complex  ideas  which  do  not  contain 
in  themselves  the  supposition  of  subsisting  by  themselves,  but 
are  considered  as  dependencies  on,  or  affections  of,  substances, 
e.g.,  triangle,  gratitude,  murder.  Simple  modes  are  only  varia- 
tions or  different  combinations  of  the  same  simple  idea,  with- 
out the  mixture  of  any  other,  as  a  dozen  or  a  score  (addition  of 
units).  Mixed  modes  are  compounded  of  simple  ideas  of  sev- 
eral kinds,  put  together  to  make  one  complex  one,  e.g.,  beauty, 
which  consists  of  a  certain  composition  of  color  and  figure,  caus- 
ing delight  or  pleasure  in  the  beholder.  By  taking  the  simple 
idea  of  space  ana  combining  it,  we  get  the  simple  modes  of 


312  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

immensity,  figure,  place,  infinite  expansion;  hours,  days,  years, 
time  and  eternity,  succession  are  simple  modes  of  duration. 
There  are  also  simple  modes  of  thinking  or  of  the  operations 
of  the  mind. 

Our  ideas  of  substances,  too,  are  complex  ideas  made  up  of 
simple  ideas,  put  together  by  the  mind.  The  complex  idea  of 
a  substance  consists  of  a  combination  of  ideas  of  qualities,  sup- 
posed to  represent  a  distinct  particular  thing,  and  the  confused 
idea  of  a  support  or  bearer  of  these  qualities.  Thus,  the  idea 
of  the  substance  lead  consists  of  this  supposed  or  confused  idea 
of  a  bearer,  to  which  are  joined  ideas  of  a  certain  dull  whitish 
color,  certain  degrees  of  weight,  hardness,  ductility,  and  fusi- 
bility. We  notice  that  a  certain  number  of  simple  ideas  got 
from  sensation  and  reflection  constantly  go  together;  we  sup- 
pose they  belong  to  one  thing  and  call  them,  so  united,  by  one 
name.  We  cannot  imagine  how  these  qualities  (ideas)  can  exist 
by  themselves,  so  we  accustom  ourselves  to  suppose  some  sub- 
stratum wherein  they  do  subsist  and  from  which  they  result; 
which,  therefore,  we  call  substance.  We  have  ideas  of  material 
substances,  spiritual  substances,  and  of  God. 

The  mind  also  gets  certain  ideas  of  relation  from  comparing 
one  thing  with  another,  it  brings  or  sets  one  thing  by  another, 
as  it  were,  carries  its  view  from  one  to  the  other,  or  relates  them. 
All  things  are  capable  of  relation,  and  all  ideas  of  relation  are 
made  up  of  simple  ideas.  The  idea  of  cause  and  effect  is  the 
most  comprehensive  relation  wherein  all  things  that  do  or  can 
exist  are  concerned;  it  is  derived  from  sensation  and  reflection. 
Our  senses  tell  us  that  things  change,  that  qualities  and  sub- 
stances begin  to  exist,  that  they  owe  their  existence  to  the  ope 
tion  of  some  other  being.  We  call  that  which  produces  any  sim 
pie  or  complex  idea  cause;  that  which  is  produced,  effect:  thus, 
heat  is  the  cause  of  the  fluidity  of  wax.  Cause  is  that  which 
makes  any  other  thing, — either  simple  idea,  substance,  or  mode, 
— begin  to  be ;  effect  is  that  which  had  its  beginning  from  some 
other  thing.  Different  kinds  of  causation  are  creation,  genera- 
tion, making,  alteration.  But  to  have  the  idea  of  cause  and 
effect,  it  suffices  to  consider  any  simple  idea  or  substance  as 
beginning  to  exist  by  the  operation  of  some  other,  without  know- 
ing the  manner  of  that  operation. — There  are  countless  other 


nb- 

L 

im- 
us, 


JOHN  LOCKE  813 

relations,  relations  of  time,  place,  and  extension,  relations  of 
identity  and  diversity,  moral  relations,  and  so  on. 

The  materials  of  our  knowledge,  then,  are  furnished  to  the 
mind  by  sensation  and  reflection ;  the  mind  acts  on  them  and 
makes  complex  ideas.  The  question  arises,  What 
cognitive  value  have  such  ideas,  what  conditions  Natyire  and 
must  they  fulfil  in. .order  to  be  knowledge?  Ideas 
should  be  clear  and  distinct,  because  confused  and 
obscure  ideas  make  the  use  of  words  uncertain.  Real  ideas  are 
such  as  have  a  foundation  in  nature,  such  as  have  a  conformity 
with  the  real  being  and  existence  of  things,  or  with  their  arche- 
types. Our  simple  ideas  are  all  real,  not  because  they  are  all 
images  or  representations  of  what  exists, — only  the  primary 
qualities  of  bodies  are  that, — but  because  they  are  all  the  effects 
of  powers  without  us.  Mixed  modes  and  relations  have  no  other 
reality  but  what  they  have  in  the  minds  of  men,  they  are  not 
intended  for  copies  of  things  really  existing ;  they  are  real  when 
they  are  so  framed  that  there  is  a  possibility  of  existing  con- 
formable to  them.  They  are  themselves  archetypes,  and  so  can- 
not be  chimerical  unless  inconsistent  ideas  are  jumbled  together 
in  them.  But  our  complex  ideas  of  substances  are  intended  by 
us  to  be  representations  of  substances  without  us,  as  they  really 
are ;  they  are,  therefore,  real  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  such  com- 
binations of  simple  ideas  as  are  really  united,  and  co-exist,  in 
things  without  us.  Ideas  are  adequate  which  perfectly  repre- 
sent the  archetypes  which  the  mind  supposes  them  taken  from, 
while  inadequate  ideas  are  but  a  partial  or  incomplete  repre- 
sentation of  these  archetypes.  Simple  ideas  and  modes  are 
all  adequate;  but  ideas  of  substances  are  all  inadequate,  be- 
cause they  desire  to  copy  things  as  they  really  exist.  Whenever 
the  mind  refers  any  of  its  ideas  to  anything  extraneous  to  them, 
they  are  then  capable  of  being  called  true  or  false;  the  mind 
here  makes  a  tacit  supposition  of  their  conformity  to  that  thing, 
which  may  be  true  or  false. 

Since  all  our  knowledge  is  about  ideas,  knowledge  is  nothing 
but  the  perception  of  the  connection  and  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment and  repugnancy  of  any  of  our  ideas.  We  perceive  that 
white  is  not  black,  that  the  idea  of  white  and  the  idea  of  black 
do  not  agree.  There  are  different  degrees  of  evidence  in  knowl- 


314  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

edge.  Sometimes  the  mind  perceives  the  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment of  two  ideas  immediately  by  themselves,  without  the  inter- 
vention of  any  other  ideas.  This  is  intuitive  knowledge.  The 
mind  perceives  at  once  that  white  is  not  black,  that  a  circle  is 
not  a  triangle,  that  three  are  more  than  two.  This  is  the  clearest 
and  most  certain  knowledge  that  human  frailty  is  capable  of; 
it  need  not  be  proved  and  cannot  be  proved,  it  is  irresistible, 
self-evident,  and  on  it  depends  all  the  certainty  and  evidence  of 
all  our  knowledge.  Sometimes  the  mind  does  not  perceive  the 
agreement  or  disagreement  between  two  ideas  at  once ;  it  does 
not  discover  their  agreement  or  disagreement  until  it  has  com- 
pared them  with  one  or  more  other  ideas :  this  is  mediate  knowl- 
edge, or  reasoning,  or  demonstrative  knowledge.  This  knowl- 
edge by  intervening  ideas  or  proofs  is  certain,  yet  its  evidence  is 
not  so  clear  and  bright,  nor  the  assent  so  ready  as  in  intuitive 
knowledge.  Every  step,  however,  in  this  knowledge  must  have 
intuitive  certainty,  in  order  that  the  conclusion  may  be  certain. 
Such  demonstration  we  have  in  mathematics  and  wherever  the 
mind  can  perceive  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  ideas  by  the 
help  of  intermediate  ideas.  In  intuitive  and  demonstrative 
knowledge  we  have  certainty;  whatever  comes  short  of  one  of 
these  is  but  faith  or  opinion,  but  not  knowledge,  at  least  in  all 
general  truths. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  our  knowledge  of  the  external  world  ? 
We  have  ideas  of  external  objects,  in  the  mind;  that  we  have 
them  is  as  certain  as  anything  can  be.  But  is  there  anything 
more  than  that  idea ;  can  we  certainly  infer  the  existence  of  any- 
thing without  us,  which  corresponds  to  this  idea ;  is  there  a  real 
world  outside?  Sometimes  we  have  ideas  to  which  nothing 
does  correspond  at  the  time,  as  in  dreams.  We  are  provided 
with  an  evidence  here  which  puts  us  past  doubting ;  that  is,  our 
knowledge  of  the  particular  existence  of  finite  beings  without 
us  goes  beyond  bare  possibility,  and  yet  does  not  reach  perfectly 
intuitive  or  demonstrative  knowledge.  Locke  calls  it  sensitive 
knowledge.  We  have  no  self-evident  knowledge  of  real  exist- 
ence except  of  ourselves  and  God;  our  own  existence  we  know 
by  intuition,  that  of  a  God  reason  makes  clearly  known  to  us. 
The  notice  we  have  by  our  senses  of  the  existence  of  things 
without  us,  though  not  so  certain  as  intuitive  knowledge  or  the 


JOHN  LOCKE  315 

deductions  of  our  reason,  yet  is  an  assurance  that  deserves  the 
name  of  knowledge.  But,  besides  this  assurance  from  our  senses 
themselves,  we  are  confirmed  by  other  concurrent  reasons:  we 
cannot  have  them  but  by  the  inlet  of  the  senses ;  they  differ  from 
memory-images;  they  are  often  accompanied  by  pain;  they 
corroborate  each  other's  testimony. 

What  now  is  the  extent  of  our  knowledge :  how  far  does  it 
reach?  Since  it  is  a  perception  of  agreement  or  disagreement 
of  any  of  our  ideas,  it  follows  that  our  knowledge 
cannot  reach  further  than  our  ideas.  Where  ideas 
are  wanting,  there  can  be  no  knowledge;  we  are 
limited  to  the  dull  and  narrow  information  received  from  some 
few  and  not  very  acute  ways  of  perception.  But  our  knowledge 
is  even  narrower  than  our  ideas ;  not  only  can  we  not  go  beyond 
what  we  experience,  but  we  neither  have  nor  shall  have  the 
knowledge  of  our  ideas  we  desire  to  have.  We  do  not  experience 
everything  we  are  capable  of  experiencing  nor  do  we  understand 
everything  we  actually  perceive.  Our  ignorance  is  due,  in  the 
first  place,  to  a  want  of  ideas.  More  perfect  beings  may  have 
more  simple  ideas  than  we  have  and  more  acute  senses.  Some 
things  are  too  remote  for  our  observation  (planets),  others  too 
minute  (atoms).  Then,  again,  we  cannot  discover  any  necessary 
connection  between  many  of  our  ideas:  we  do  not  see  what 
connection  there  is  between  the  figure,  size,  or  motion  of  the 
invisible  parts  of  a  body  and  the  color,  taste,  or  sound  the  body 
has;  we  do  not  understand  the  relation  between  the  yellow 
color,  the  weight,  the  malleableness,  the  fixedness  and  the  fusi- 
bility of  gold,  so  that  knowing  one  or  two  or  more  of  these 
qualities,  we  can  know  that  the  others  must  be  there.  Given 
the  definition  of  a  triangle,  it  will  follow  necessarily  that  the 
sum  of  its  angles  is  equal  to  two  right  angles:  that  is  a  self- 
evident  proposition,  which  is  true  of  everything  called  a  triangle 
whether  there  is  such  a  thing  or  not.  But  from  my  idea  of 
gold  as  a  yellow  metal  having  a  certain  weight,  I  cannot  deduce 
with  certainty  the  fact  that  it  is  malleable.  Observation  tells 
me  that  it  is  malleable,  but  that  all  gold  is  malleable  is  not  a 
self-evident  truth.  What  I  want  is  universal  and  self-evident 
truths ;  of  these  knowledge  is  made  up,  but  I  cannot  have  them 
concerning  all  my  experience. 


316  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Another  thing  to  be  remembered  is  that  to  be  real  knowledge, 
my  ideas  must,  in  some  way,  agree  with  the  reality  of  things. 
Here,  again,  my  knowledge  is  limited.  All  simple  ideas  repre- 
sent things  outside,  because  they  must  necessarily  be  the  product 
of  things  operating  on  the  mind.  There  are  bodies  outside  which 
arouse  in  us  the  sensation  white ;  though  we  may  not  know  what 
it  is  that  produces  this  sensation,  and  how  it  is  done,  yet  there 
is  something  there  that  does  it.  Our  complex  ideas,  too,  for  the 
most  part,  give  us  knowledge,  but  for  another  reason.  They  are 
not  intended  to  be  copies  of  anything,  nor  referred  to  the  exist- 
ence of  anything  as  originals ;  they  are  patterns  or  archetypes  of 
the  mind's  own  making.  The  mind  of  its  own  free  choice  com- 
bines ideas  without  considering  any  connection  they  may  have 
in  nature.  If  we  remember  this,  we  shall  see  that  they  give  us 
certain  knowledge.  Such  knowledge  we  have  in  mathematics. 
The  mathematician  forms  an  idea  of  a  triangle  or  a  circle ;  these 
are  ideas  in  his  mind,  made  by  himself.  The  propositions  which 
he  deduces  logically  from  these  definitions  are  true  and  certain. 
If  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  triangle,  they  are  bound  to  be  true 
of  it  wherever  it  exists. 

The  case  of  our  complex  ideas  of  substances,  however,  is  dif- 
ferent. Our  ideas  of  substances  are  supposed  to  be  copies  of, 
and  referred  to,  archetypes  without  us.  If  the  qualities  we  put 
together  in  our  ideas  of  substance  coexist  in  nature,  if,  for  ex- 
ample, there  is  something  in  nature  having  the  qualities  yellow, 
malleable,  fusible,  fixed,  etc.,  then  the  idea  of  substance  is  the 
object  of  real  knowledge.  And  we  may  say,  whatever  simple 
ideas  have  been  found  to  coexist  in  any  substance  may 
with  confidence  be  joined  together  again.  But,  it  is  to  be 
noted,  we  can  make  no  universal  propositions  concerning  sub^ 
stances,  because  we  do  not  see  any  necessary  connection  between 
the  ideas  put  together.  Experience  tells  us  that  certain 
qualities  coexist  in  an  unknown  bearer  or  substratum,  but 
we  cannot  discover  the  dependence  of  these  qualities  on  one 
another,  and  we  cannot  infer  from  the  qualities  we  observe 
going  together  what  other  qualities  must  go  with  them.  There 
is  not  a  single  general  affirmation  of  gold  that  we  can  know  to 
be  certainly  true,  true  in  the  sense  of  being  absolutely  self- 
evident.  If  we  could  discover  a  necessary  connection  between 


JOHN  LOCKE  317 

malleableness  and  the  weight  of  gold,  we  might  make  a  certain 
universal  proposition  in  this  respect,  and  say:  All  gold  is 
malleable;  the  truth  of  the  proposition  would  be  as  certain  as 
the  truth:  The  sum  of  the  angles  of  a  triangle  is  equal  to  two 
right  angles.  There  is  another  difficulty  in  the  case  of  substances 
which  complicates  the  problem.  The  substances  in  nature  are 
not  independent,  isolated  things ;  their  qualities  depend,  for  the 
most  part,  on  many  invisible  conditions  in  nature.  Whence  the 
streams  come  that  keep  all  these  curious  machines  in  motion 
and  repair,  how  conveyed  and  modified,  is  beyond  our  notice  and 
appreciation.  To  understand  them  aright,  therefore,  we  should 
understand  the  universe  as  a  whole.  But  we  cannot  even  dis- 
cover the  size,  figure,  and  texture  of  their  minute  and  active 
parts,  much  less  the  different  motions  and  impulses  made  in  and 
upon  them  by  bodies  from  without.  Hence,  we  do  not  know 
what  changes  the  primary  qualities  of  one  body  regularly  pro- 
duce in  the  primary  qualities  of  another,  and  how;  nor  do  we 
know  what  primary  qualities  of  any  body  produce  sensations 
or  ideas  in  us.  We  do  not  perceive  the  necessary  connection 
between  these  primary  qualities  and  their  effects.  Hence,  we  get 
very  little  universal  certainty  here,  and  must  content  ourselves 
with  probability.  For  this  reason  we  can  have  no  perfect  natu- 
ral science.  Of  spirits  we  are  even  more  ignorant.  "  As  to  a 
perfect  science  of  natural  bodies  (not  to  mention  spiritual  be- 
ings), we  are  so  far  from  being  capable  of  any  such  thing  that 
it  is  lost  labor  to  seek  after  it.1' 

General  certainty  is,  therefore,  never  to  be  found  except  in 
the  agreement  and  disagreement  of  our  ideas.  It  is  the  con- 
templation of  our  own  abstract  ideas  that  alone  is  able  to  afford 
us  general  knowledge.  We  have  no  self-evident  propositions  as 
to  real  existence  (except  in  the  case  of  God  and  ourselves),  and 
can  build  no  science  on  them. 

Most  of  the  propositions  we  think,  reason,  discourse,  and  act 
upon  are  such  that  we  cannot  have  undoubted  knowledge  of  their 
truth.  Yet  some  of  them  border  so  near  upon  certainty  that 
we  make  no  doubt  at  all  about  them,  but  assent  to  them  firmly. 
There  are  different  degrees  and  grounds  of  probability:  con- 
formity with  our  own  experience  and  the  testimony  of  others' 
experience.  The  bare  testimony  of  revelation,  however,  Locke 


318  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

regards  as  the  highest  certainty ;  our  assent  to  it  is  faith.  Faith 
is  a  settled  and  sure  principle  of  assent  and  assurance,  and 
leaves  no  manner  of  room  for  doubt  or  hesitation.  Only, — 
we  must  be  sure  that  it  is  a  divine  revelation.  And,  therefore, 
our  assent  can  be  rationally  no  higher  than  the  evidence  of  its 
being  a  revelation.  No  proposition  can  be  received  for  divine 
revelation  if  it  be  contradictory  to  our  clear  intuitive  knowl- 
edge; faith  can  never  convince  us  of  anything  that  contradicts 
our  knowledge.  There  can  be  no  evidence  that  any  traditional 
revelation  is  of  divine  origin,  in  the  words  we  receive  it  and  in 
the  sense  we  understand  it,  so  clear  and  certain  as  that  of  the 
principles  of  reason.  But  things  which  are  beyond  the  discovery 
of  our  natural  faculties,  and  above  reason,  are,  when  revealed, 
the  proper  matter  of  faith.  Thus,  that  the  dead  shall  rise  and 
live  again,  is  purely  a  matter  of  faith  with  which  reason  has 
directly  nothing  to  do. 

We  have  heard  Locke's  answers  to  the  questions  concerning 
the  origin,  validity,  and  limitations  of  knowledge;  let  us  now 
consider  the  general  world-view  on  which  his 
thought  is  based.  He  did  not  work  out  a  complete 
theory  of  reality  in  any  separate  book,  but  his  thought  rests  upon 
philosophical  presuppositions  which  may  be  discovered  in  his 
Essay.  In  spite  of  the  restrictions  which  he  places  upon  knowl- 
edge and  his  frequent  skeptical  misgivings,  he  adopts,  with  va- 
riations, the  metaphysics  of  common-sense  which  Descartes  had 
organized  into  a  system. 

The  world  is  composed  of  substances:  supports  or  bearers  in 
which  powers,  qualities,  and  actions  inhere  and  from  which  they 
flow;  the  grounds  and  causes  of  qualities  and  acts.  Substances 
are  of  two  kinds,  bodies  and  souls.  The  body  is  a  substance  whose 
attributes  are  extension,  solidity  or  impenetrability,  and  mo- 
bility or  the  power  of  being  moved.  These  are  its  primary 
qualities,  which  we  receive  through  our  senses.  Hence,  there 
can  be  space  without  body,  or  pure  space,  a  vacuum ;  we  can  con- 
ceive space  without  solidity,  and  motion  proves  the  vacuum.  Be- 
sides material  substances,  there  exist  spiritual  substances,  or 
souls.  The  soul  is  a  real  being:  we  have  a  clear  and  distinct 
idea  of  it.  Its  qualities  are  the  power  of  perception  or  think- 
ing and  will  or  the  power  of  putting  the  body  in  motion.  These 


JOHN  LOCKE  319 

qualities  we  know  through  reflection.  Thinking,  however,  is 
not  the  essence,  but  the  action  of  the  soul.  The  soul  is  an  imma- 
terial substance.  I  have  as  clear  and  distinct  an  idea  of  spir- 
itual substance  as  I  have  of  a  corporeal  substance;  I  frame  the 
idea  of  a  bodily  substance  by  putting  together  certain  corporeal 
qualities  and  supposing  a  support  for  them ;  I  form  an  idea  of 
soul-substance  by  reflecting  upon  the  operations  of  my  own  mind, 
as  thinking,  understanding,  willing,  knowing,  and  the  power  of 
beginning  motion,  and  joining  these  to  a  support  or  bearer.  It 
is  as  rational  to  affirm  that  there  is  no  body  because  we  have 
no  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  the  substance  (bearer)  of  matter, 
as  to  say  there  is  no  spirit  because  we  have  no  clear  and  distinct 
idea  of  the  substance  of  a  spirit.  "  Having  as  clear  and  dis- 
tinct ideas  in  us  of  thinking  as  of  solidity,  I  know  not  why 
we  may  not  as  well  allow  a  thinking  thing  without  solidity, 
i.e.,  immaterial,  to  exist,  as  a  solid  thing  without  thinking,  i.e., 
matter,  to  exist,  especially  since  it  is  no  harder  to  conceive  how 
thinking  should  exist  without  matter  than  how  matter  should 
think."  Indeed,  I  know  more  certainly  that  there  is  a  spiritual 
being  within  me  that  sees  and  hears  than  that  there  is  some 
corporeal  being  without  me.  Besides,  incogitative  matter  and 
motion  could  never  produce  thought,  and  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive  that  matter,  either  with  or  without  motion, 
could  have,  originally  in  and  from  itself,  sense,  perception,  and 
knowledge. 

Pure  spirit  (God)  is  only  active,  matter  is  only  passive,  but  \ 
man's  soul  is  both  active  and  passive.  It  has  the  power  to  move 
the  body,  as  experience  shows,  and  the  bodies  outside  produce 
changes  in  the  soul ;  indeed,  all  our  ideas  are  due  to  the  action 
of  the  body  on  the  mind.  This  is  the  theory  of  interaction.  It 
is  true,  we  do  not  know  how  this  is  done,  but  neither  do  we 
know  how  a  body  moves  a  body.  Indeed,  we  have  a  much 
clearer  idea  of  the  active  power  of  moving,  in  spirit,  than  in 
body.  It  is  not  easier  to  conceive  an  extended  being  than  a 
thinking  being. 

Mind  and  body  exist  as  real  beings,  and  they  interact.  Bodies 
act  on  mind  and  produce  sensations  of  color,  sound,  touch,  solid- 
ity, extension,  etc.  Of  these,  the  secondary  qualities  do  not 
represent  faithfully  the  reality  outside ;  objects  are  not  colored 


318  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

regards  as  the  highest  certainty ;  our  assent  to  it  is  faith.  Faith 
is  a  settled  and  sure  principle  of  assent  and  assurance,  and 
leaves  no  manner  of  room  for  doubt  or  hesitation.  Only, — 
we  must  be  sure  that  it  is  a  divine  revelation.  And,  therefore, 
our  assent  can  be  rationally  no  higher  than  the  evidence  of  its 
being  a  revelation.  No  proposition  can  be  received  for  divine 
revelation  if  it  be  contradictory  to  our  clear  intuitive  knowl- 
edge; faith  can  never  convince  us  of  anything  that  contradicts 
our  knowledge.  There  can  be  no  evidence  that  any  traditional 
revelation  is  of  divine  origin,  in  the  words  we  receive  it  and  in 
the  sense  we  understand  it,  so  clear  and  certain  as  that  of  the 
principles  of  reason.  But  things  which  are  beyond  the  discovery 
of  our  natural  faculties,  and  above  reason,  are,  when  revealed, 
the  proper  matter  of  faith.  Thus,  that  the  dead  shall  rise  and 
live  again,  is  purely  a  matter  of  faith  with  which  reason  has 
directly  nothing  to  do. 

We  have  heard  Locke's  answers  to  the  questions  concerning 
the  origin,  validity,  and  limitations  of  knowledge;  let  us  now 
consider  the  general  world-view  on  which  his 
thought  is  based.  He  did  not  work  out  a  complete 
theory  of  reality  in  any  separate  book,  but  his  thought  rests  upon 
philosophical  presuppositions  which  may  be  discovered  in  his 
Essay.  In  spite  of  the  restrictions  which  he  places  upon  knowl- 
edge and  his  frequent  skeptical  misgivings,  he  adopts,  with  va- 
riations, the  metaphysics  of  common-sense  which  Descartes  had 
organized  into  a  system. 

The  world  is  composed  of  substances:  supports  or  bearers  in 
which  powers,  qualities,  and  actions  inhere  and  from  which  they 
flow;  the  grounds  and  causes  of  qualities  and  acts.  Substances 
are  of  two  kinds,  bodies  and  souls.  The  body  is  a  substance  whose 
attributes  are  extension,  solidity  or  impenetrability,  and  mo- 
bility or  the  power  of  being  moved.  These  are  its  primary 
qualities,  which  we  receive  through  our  senses.  Hence,  there 
can  be  space  without  body,  or  pure  space,  a  vacuum ;  we  can  con- 
ceive space  without  solidity,  and  motion  proves  the  vacuum.  Be- 
sides material  substances,  there  exist  spiritual  substances,  or 
souls.  The  soul  is  a  real  being:  we  have  a  clear  and  distinct 
idea  of  it.  Its  qualities  are  the  power  of  perception  or  think- 
ing and  will  or  the  power  of  putting  the  body  in  motion.  These 


JOHN  LOCKE  319 

qualities  we  know  through  reflection.  Thinking,  however,  is 
not  the  essence,  but  the  action  of  the  soul.  The  soul  is  an  imma- 
terial substance.  I  have  as  clear  and  distinct  an  idea  of  spir- 
itual substance  as  I  have  of  a  corporeal  substance;  I  frame  the 
idea  of  a  bodily  substance  by  putting  together  certain  corporeal 
qualities  and  supposing  a  support  for  them ;  I  form  an  idea  of 
soul-substance  by  reflecting  upon  the  operations  of  my  own  mind, 
as  thinking,  understanding,  willing,  knowing,  and  the  power  of 
beginning  motion,  and  joining  these  to  a  support  or  bearer.  It 
is  as  rational  to  affirm  that  there  is  no  body  because  we  have 
no  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  the  substance  (bearer)  of  matter, 
as  to  say  there  is  no  spirit  because  we  have  no  clear  and  distinct 
idea  of  the  substance  of  a  spirit.  "  Having  as  clear  and  dis- 
tinct ideas  in  us  of  thinking  as  of  solidity,  I  know  not  why 
we  may  not  as  well  allow  a  thinking  thing  without  solidity, 
i.e.,  immaterial,  to  exist,  as  a  solid  thing  without  thinking,  i.e., 
matter,  to  exist,  especially  since  it  is  no  harder  to  conceive  how 
thinking  should  exist  without  matter  than  how  matter  should 
think."  Indeed,  I  know  more  certainly  that  there  is  a  spiritual 
being  within  me  that  sees  and  hears  than  that  there  is  some 
corporeal  being  without  me.  Besides,  incogitative  matter  and 
motion  could  never  produce  thought,  and  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive  that  matter,  either  with  or  without  motion, 
could  have,  originally  in  and  from  itself,  sense,  perception,  and 
knowledge. 

Pure  spirit  (God)  is  only  active,  matter  is  only  passive,  but  \ 
man 's  soul  is  both  active  and  passive.  It  has  the  power  to  move 
the  body,  as  experience  shows,  and  the  bodies  outside  produce 
changes  in  the  soul ;  indeed,  all  our  ideas  are  due  to  the  action 
of  the  body  on  the  mind.  This  is  the  theory  of  interaction.  It 
is  true,  we  do  not  know  how  this  is  done,  but  neither  do  we 
know  how  a  body  moves  a  body.  Indeed,  we  have  a  much 
clearer  idea  of  the  active  power  of  moving,  in  spirit,  than  in 
body.  It  is  not  easier  to  conceive  an  extended  being  than  a 
thinking  being. 

Mind  and  body  exist  as  real  beings,  and  they  interact.  Bodies 
act  on  mind  and  produce  sensations  of  color,  sound,  touch,  solid- 
ity, extension,  etc.  Of  these,  the  secondary  qualities  do  not 
represent  faithfully  the  reality  outside ;  objects  are  not  colored 


S20  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

sounding,  fragrant,  savory;  these  are  the  effects  produced  on 
the  mind  by  extended  solid  objects;  the  ideas  of  extension, 
solidity,  and  motion  are  copies  of  real  existing  things.  Bodies 
are  solid  extended  things  that  move.  But,  so  far  as  we  conceive, 
body  is  able  only  to  strike  and  affect  body;  and  motion,  accord- 
ing to  the  utmost  reach  of  our  ideas,  is  able  to  produce  nothing 
but  motion.  Hence,  when  we  say  it  produces  pleasure  or  pain 
or  the  idea  of  color  or  sound,  we  are  fain  to  quit  our  reason, 
go  beyond  our  ideas,  and  attribute  it  wholly  to  the  good  pleasure 
of  our  Maker. 

Locke  here  strikes  a  difficulty.  The  theory  of  mechanism 
comes  in  conflict  with  the  apparent  facts  of  experience.  If  mo- 
tion can  produce  nothing  but  motion,  how  can  it  produce  states 
of  consciousness  in  us?  God,  he  tells  us,  has  annexed  these 
effects  to  motion  which  we  cannot  conceive  motion  to  produce. 
This  is  a  relapse  into  occasionalism.  It  is  equally  difficult  to 
conceive  how  mind  can  start  a  motion,  how  the  will  can  cause 
an  act  to  take  place. 

But  these  difficulties  he  brushes  aside  in  other  passages  by 
declaring  that  it  is  just  as  hard  to  understand  how  motion 
produces  motion  as  how  motion  produces  sensation  and  sensa- 
tion motion.  Experience  tells  us,  however,  every  moment  that 
the  thing  is  done.  He  has  occasional  misgivings  on  these  points, 
as  he  has  on  the  question  of  the  immateriality  of  the  soul.  His 
general  thought  is  that  mental  processes  cannot  be  the  action 
of  bare  insensible  matter,  that  there  could  be  no  sensation  with- 
out an  immaterial  thinking  being.  There  is  within  me  some 
spiritual  being  that  sees  and  hears.  At  the  same  time,  he  is 
sometimes  in  doubt  about  the  nature  of  this  being  in  us  that 
thinks.  Perhaps  it  is  material  and  perhaps  a  material  being 
can  think.  We  do  not  know  the  real  nature  of  any  substance, 
so  how  do  we  know  that  we  have  only  solid  beings  that  do  not 
think,  and  thinking  begins  that  are  not  extended  ?  Possibly,  we 
shall  never  know  whether  any  mere  material  being  thinks  or  no. 
We  do  not  know  in  what  thinking  consists  nor  to  what  sort  of 
substances  the  Almighty  has  been  pleased  to  give  that  power 
which  cannot  be  in  any  created  being  but  merely  by  the  good 
pleasure  and  bounty  of  the  Creator.  God  has  annexed  effects 
to  motion,  we  cannot  conceive  it;  why  could  he  not  have  given 


JOHN  LOCKE  321 

to  certain  systems  of  created  matter,  put  together  as  he  thinks 
best,  some  degrees  of  sense,  perception,  and  thought? 

These  are  some  of  the  difficulties  and  inconsistencies  in 
Locke's  system.  But  his  theory  remains,  in  the  main,  dualistic: 
there  are  two  substances,  material  and  mental,  "  incogitative 
and  cogitative."  In  this  he  agrees  with  Descartes,  except  that 
he  makes  solidity  or  impenetrability  the  attribute  of  body.  He 
also  agrees  with  Descartes  in  accepting  the  "  corpuscularian  " 
hypothesis  as  the  best  explanation  of  the  facts.  There  are  ex- 
tremely small  bodies,  or  atoms,  having  bulk,  figure,  and  power  of 
motion.  These  insensible  corpuscles  are  the  active  parts  of  mat- 
ter and  the  great  instruments  of  nature  on  which  depend  not 
only  all  their  secondary  qualities,  but  also  most  of  their  natural 
operations.  But  we  have  no  distinct  precise  ideas  of  their  pri- 
mary qualities.  No  one  has  ever  pretended  to  perceive  their 
distinct  bulk,  figure,  or  motion,  and  no  one  understands  the  tie 
that  binds  them  together.  If  we  could  discover  the  figure,  size, 
texture,  and  motion  of  the  minute  constituent  parts  of  any  two 
bodies,  we  should  know  without  trial  several  of  their  operations, 
one  upon  another,  as  we  do  now  know  the  properties  of  a  square 
or  triangle.  We  do  not  know  these  things;  we  do  not  know 
what  bonds  hold  these  corpuscles  together,  what  cement  makes 
them  stick  together  so  firmly ;  we  do  not  know  how  one  moves  the 
other,  how  motion  is  transferred  to  another.  So  that,  after  all, 
this  corpuscularian  hypothesis  very  little  advances  our  knowl- 
edge of  corporeal  substances.  So  long  as  we  do  not  see  the 
necessary  connection  between  the  qualities  and  powers  of  bodies, 
our  knowledge  is  scant.  Consequently,  there  is  no  science  of 
bodies  in  the  real  sense  of  the  term.  At  any  rate,  the  atomic 
theory  is  impossible  as  a  world-view  or  universal  theory. 

Besides  the  two  substances,  body  and  mind,  there  is  another 
spiritual  substance,  God.  We  have  no  innate  idea  of  God,  but 
we  may,  by  the  right  use  of  our  natural  abilities,  attain  a 
knowledge  of  God.  It  is  as  certain  that  there  is  a  God  as  that 
the  opposite  angles  made  by  the  intersection  of  two  straight  lines 
are  equal.  We  frame  the  idea  of  God,  taking  the  ideas  which  we 
derive  from  experience  of  existence  and  duration,  knowledge 
and  power,  pleasure  and  happiness,  etc.,  and  enlarge  every  one 
of  these  with  the  idea  of  infinity ;  and  so  putting  them  together, 


322  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

make  our  complex  idea  of  God.  We  do  not,  however,  know  his 
real  essence. 

Locke  offers  the  usual  causal  and  teleological  proofs  of  God's 
existence.  Man  knows  with  certainty  that  he  himself  exists. 
He  also  knows  that  bare  nothing  cannot  produce  real  being. 
Hence  if  there  is  real  being, — and  man  knows  that  Tie  is  real 
being, — there  must  have  been  something  to  produce  it.  More- 
over, that  which  owes  its  being  and  beginning  to  another  being 
must  have  everything  it  has  from  the  being  that  made  it.  The 
eternal  source  of  all  being,  then,  must  be  the  source  and  original 
of  all  power,  hence  it  must  be  all-powerful,  and,  for  the  same 
reason,  it  must  be  all-intelligent.  Unthinking  matter  cannot 
produce  a  thinking  being.  If  God  has  made  the  knowing  beings, 
he  has  also  made  the  less  excellent  pieces  of  this  universe,  which 
establishes  his  omniscience,  power,  and  providence.  However 
we  may  conceive  God,  we  cannot  conceive  him  as  material.  But 
even  if  he  were,  he  would  still  be  God.  Nor  can  matter  be 
co-eternal  with  a  co-eternal  mind.  If  it  be  asked  how  we  can 
conceive  God  making  anything  out  of  nothing,  Locke  points 
out  that  we  cannot  conceive  how  thought  can  produce  motion, 
and  yet  we  do  not  deny  it. 

In  agreement  with  his  general  standpoint,  Locke  offers  an 
empirical  theory  of  ethics,  which  ends  in  an  egoistic  hedonism. 
There  are  no  innate  practical  or  moral  truths,  any 
more  than  there  are  such  theoretical  truths.  We 
make  moral  judgments  without  having  any  rules  "  written  on 
our  hearts."  Many  men  come  to  a  knowledge  of  such  rules, 
and  are  convinced  of  their  obligation,  in  the  same  way  in  which 
they  come  to  know  other  things.  Others  learn  them  from  their 
education,  environment,  and  the  customs  of  their  country.  The 
fact  is,  we  instil  into  the  minds  of  children  those  doctrines  which 
we  would  have  them  retain  and  profess ;  and  our  children,  when 
they  grow  up,  find  these  truths  present  in  conscience  and  regard 
them  imprinted  by  God  and  nature,  and  not  taught  by  any  one 
else.  Conscience  is  nothing  but  our  opinion  of  the  Tightness  and 
wrongness  of  our  own  actions  in  the  light  of  such  acquired  moral 
knowledge.  "  Morality  is  the  relation  of  action  to  rules,  the 
agreement  or  disagreement  of  voluntary  actions  with  some 
law." 


JOHN  LOCKE  323 

The  question  arises,  How  did  such  moral  laws  ever  come  to 
be  established,  how  has  the  knowledge  of  right  and  wrong  been 
acquired  ?  Pleasure  and  pain  are  the  great  teachers  of  morality, 
according  to  our  empiricist.  Nature  has  put  into  man  a  desire 
of  happiness  and  an  aversion  to  misery,  and  these  are  natural 
tendencies,  or  practical  principles,  which  influence  all  our  ac- 
tions; but  they  are  inclinations  and  not  truths  of  the  under- 
standing. We  call  that  good  which  is  apt  to  cause  pleasure  in 
us,  and  evil  that  which  is  apt  to  cause  pain.  Every  one  con- 
stantly pursues  happiness  and  desires  what  makes  any  part  of 
it ;  it  is  this  desire  or  uneasiness  which  determines  the  will.  Hap- 
piness in  its  full  extent  is  the  utmost  pleasure  we  are  capable 
of,  and  misery  the  utmost  pain.  Now,  certain  modes  of  conduct 
produce  public  happiness  and  preserve  society,  and  also  benefit 
the  agent  himself.  God  has  joined  virtue  and  public  happiness 
together  and  made  the  practice  of  virtue  necessary  to  society. 
Men  discover  these  forms  of  behavior,  and  accept  them  as  rules 
of  practice.  Every  one  reaps  advantage  to  himself  from  the 
observance  of  the  moral  rules  and,  therefore,  recommends  them. 

But  it  would  be  vain  for  one  intelligent  being  to  set  a  rule 
to  the  actions  of  another  if  he  did  not  have  the  power  to  reward 
obedience  and  punish  disobedience  by  some  good  or  evil  that 
is  not  the  natural  consequence  of  the  act  itself.  There  would 
be  no  need  of  a  law  where  the  natural  consequences  of  actions 
had  sufficient  motive  force.  The  laws  have  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, pleasure  and  pain,  annexed  to  them  by  the  will  and  power 
of  a  law-giver,  in  order  to  determine  the  wills  of  men.  There 
are  three  sorts  of  laws,  divine  laws,  the  civil  law,  and  the  law 
of  opinion  or  reputation.  The  divine  law  is  the  law  which  God 
has  set  to  the  actions  of  men,  whether  promulgated  to  them  by 
the  light  of  nature  or  the  voice  of  revelation.  God  has  the  power 
to  enforce  this  law  by  rewards  and  punishments  of  infinite  weight 
and  duration  in  another  life.  Here  we  speak  of  duties  and  sins. 
The  civil  law  is  the  rule  set  by  the  commonwealth,  and  is  accom- 
panied by  legal  rewards  and  punishments.  Here  we  have  the 
notion  of  crime  and  innocence.  But  the  great  majority  of  men 
govern  themselves  chiefly,  if  not  solely,  by  the  law  of  fashion  or 
private  censure.  Commendation  and  disgrace  are  strong  motives 
to  men  to  accommodate  themselves  to  the  opinions  and  rules  of 


324  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

those  with  whom  they  converse.  No  man  escapes  the  punish- 
ment of  the  dislike  and  censure  of  his  fellows,  who  offends  against 
the  fashion  and  opinion  of  the  company  he  keeps  and  would 
recommend  himself  to.  Virtue  is  everywhere  thought  praise- 
worthy; and  nothing  else  but  that  which  has  the  allowance  of 
public  esteem  is  called  virtue.  It  is  with  these  laws  or  rules 
that  men  compare  their  actions,  and  call  them  good  or  evil, 
according  to  their  agreement  or  disagreement  with  them.  The 
true  sanction,  however,  of  virtue,  is  the  will  of  God;  the  will  and 
law  of  God  is  the  only  touchstone  of  morality. 

In  the  main,  virtues  and  vices  are  everywhere  the  same,  and 
correspond  with  the  unchangeable  rule  of  right  and  wrong  which 
the  law  of  God  has  established.  Obedience  to  the  laws  of  God 
secures  and  advances  the  general  good  of  mankind;  therefore 
rational  human  beings,  having  a  care  for  their  own  interest,  could 
not  fail  to  commend  the  right  and  blame  the  wrong. 

This  is  the  old  Greek  hedonistic  interpretation  of  morality, 
supplemented  by  a  narrow  conception  of  Christian  theology. 
Virtue  is  nothing  else  but  doing  of  good  either  to  oneself  or 
others.  The  most  lasting  pleasures  in  life  consist  in  health, 
reputation,  knowledge,  doing  good,  and  the  expectation  of  eternal 
and  incomprehensible  happiness  in  another  world. 

Locke  shows  how  we  derive  our  moral  knowledge  from  experi- 
ence. We  may,  however,  he  thinks,  reach  it  by  reasoning  from 
certain  first  principles,  by  demonstration.  Morality  is  capable 
of  demonstration  as  well  as  mathematics.  "  The  idea  of  a  su- 
preme Being,  infinite  in  power,  goodness,  and  wisdom,  whose 
workmanship  we  are,  and  on  whom  we  depend ;  and  the  idea 
of  ourselves,  as  understanding,  rational  beings,  would,  I  sup- 
pose, if  duly  considered  and  pursued,  afford  such  foundations 
of  our  duty  and  rules  of  action  as  might  place  morality  among 
the  sciences  capable  of  demonstration."  "  Where  there  is  no 
property  there  is  no  injustice,  is  a  proposition  as  certain  as  any 
demonstration  in  Euclid. "  "  Again :  no  government  allows  ab- 
solute liberty;  the  idea  of  government  being  the  establishment 
of  certain  rules  or  laws  which  require  conformity  to  them,  and 
the  idea  of  absolute  liberty  being  for  any  one  to  do  whatever  he 
pleases,  I  am  as  capable  of  being  certain  of  the  truth  of  this 
proposition  as  of  any  in  mathematics." 


JOHN  LOCKE  325 

In  other  words,  we  have  an  empirical  knowledge  of  right  and 
wrong,  a  demonstrative  knowledge,  and  a  revealed  knowledge,  all 
of  which  agree.  God  has  so  arranged  it  that,  given  a  desire  of 
happiness,  man  will  evolve  a  moral  code.  He  has  also  endowed 
him  with  reason  which  will  enable  him  to  acquire  moral  truth 
by  demonstration.  And  in  the  Scriptures  he  has  revealed  the 
same  laws  which  can  be  reached  by  experience  and  reason. 

According  to  Locke  freedom  is  not  an  idea  belonging  to  voli- 
tion or  preferring,  but  to  the  person  having  the  power  of  doing 
or  forbearing  to  do,  according  as  the  mind  shall 
choose  or  direct.  We  cannot  say  a  man's  will  is 
free,  "  it  is  as  insignificant  to  ask  whether  a  man's  will  be  free, 
as  to  ask  whether  his  sleep  be  swift  or  his  virtue  square."  The 
will  is  one  power  or  ability,  namely,  the  power  of  an  agent  to 
think  his  own  actions  and  to  prefer  their  doing  or  omission. 
Freedom  is  another  power  or  ability,  the  power  to  do  or  forbear 
doing  any  particular  action  according  as  he  himself  wills.  So 
that  when  we  ask,  Is  the  will  free?  we  are  really  asking,  Has 
one  power  another  power?  which  is  an  absurdity.  It  is  to  ask, 
Is  the  will  a  substance,  an  agent?  The  will  is  not  a  faculty  or 
substance.  A  man  is  free  so  far  as  he  has  power  to  think  or  not 
to  think,  to  move  or  not  to  move  according  to  the  preference  or 
direction  of  his  own  mind.  Wherever  he  has  not  the  power  to 
do  or  forbear  any  act  according  to  the  determination  or  thought 
of  the  mind,  he  is  not  free  though  perhaps  his  act  may  be  volun- 
tary. It  is  some  pressing  uneasiness  that  successively  deter- 
mines the  will  and  sets  us  upon  those  actions  we  perform.  This 
uneasiness  is  desire,  it  is  an  uneasiness  of  the  mind  for  want  of 
some  absent  good.  God  has  put  into  men  the  uneasiness  of  hun- 
ger and  thirst  and  other  natural  desires,  to  move  and  determine 
their  wills  for  the  preservation  of  themselves  and  the  continua- 
tion of  the  species.  The  most  pressing  uneasiness  naturally  de- 
termines the  will.  But  what  moves  desire  ?  Happiness  alone. 

Locke's  theory  of  the  State  is  presented  in  his  Two  Treatises 
on  Government,  the  first  of  which  is  a  refutation  of  Sir  Robert 
Filmer's  (died  1653)  absolutistic  work,  Patriarcha*  In  the 
second  he  discusses  "  the  true  original,  extent,  and  end  of  civil 

*  Patriarchal  authority  is  a  divine  unalterable  right  of  sovereignty,  in- 
herited from  Adam.  Algernon  Sidney  (1622-1683)  refutes  Filmer's  Biblical 


\v 

326  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

government."  He  opposes  the  view  that  all  government  is  ab- 
solute monarchy,  that  kings  have  a  divine  right  to  absolute  power, 

and  that  mankind  has  no  right  to  natural  free- 
Politics  ,.         ,, 

dom  and  equality.     Men  are  naturally  in  a  state 

of  perfect  freedom  to  order  their  actions  and  dispose  of  their 
possessions  as  they  think  fit,  within  the  bounds  of  the  law  of 
nature,  without  asking  leave,  or  depending  on  the  will,  of  any 
other  man.  They  are  also  in  a  state  of  equality  of  nature,  no 
man  having  more  power  and  jurisdiction  than  another.  The 
law  of  nature  or  reason  teaches  all  mankind  that,  being  all  equal 
and  independent,  no  one  ought  to  harm  another  in  his  life, 
liberty,  and  possessions.*  Every  one  is  bound  to  preserve  him- 
self and  to  preserve  the  rest  of  mankind  when  his  own  preser- 
vation comes  not  in  competition.  And  in  a  state  of  nature 
every  one  has  a  power  to  punish  transgressions  of  that  law  of 
nature,  to  preserve  the  innocent,  to  restrain  offenders,  and  to 
take  reparation  for  injuries  done  him.  Each  transgression  may 
be  punished  to  that  degree,  and  with  so  much  severity,  as  will 
suffice  to  make  it  an  ill  bargain  to  the  offender,  give  him  cause 
to  repent,  and  terrify  others  from  doing  the  like.  ~^L 

The  state  of  nature  is  not  (as  Hobbes  supposed)  a  state  of 
war,  but  a  state  of  peace,  good-will,  and  mutual  assistance.  God 
made  man  so  that  convenience  and  inclination  drove  him  into 
society,  and  fitted  him  with  understanding  and  language  to 
continue  and  enjoy  it.  But  many  things  are  wanting  in  a  state 
of  nature :  an  established,  settled,  known  law ;  a  known  and  im- 
partial judge  with  authority;  power  to  back  and  support  the 
sentence,  when  right,  and  give  it  due  execution.  We  have 
political  or  civil  society  whenever  any  number  of  men  are  so 
united  into  one  society  as  to  quit  every  one  his  executive  power 
of  the  law  of  nature,  and  to  resign  it  to  the  public:  whenever 
men  enter  into  society  to  make  one  people,  one  body  politic, 
under  one  supreme  government  (contract  theory). 

proofs  in  his  Discourse  on  Government.  The  poet  Milton  (1608-1674) 
demands  domestic,  ecclesiastical,  and  political  liberty.  Barclay  is  the 
great  champion  of  the  absolute  monarchy.  Locke  largely  bases  himself  on 
the  principles  already  laid  down  in  Richard  Hooker's  Laws  of  Ecclesiastical 
Polity,  1593. 

*  Locke  drafted  (1669)  the  first  constitution  for  the  Carolinas,  which 
King  Charles  II  had  bestowed  upon  a  number  of  noblemen,  among  them 
luocke's  patron,  the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury. 


JOHN  LOCKE  327 

Hence,  absolute  monarchy  is  inconsistent  with  civil  society. 
For  if  the  prince  holds  both  the  legislative  and  executive  pow- 
ers, there  is  no  common  judge  who  may  fairly,  indifferently,  and 
with  authority  decide,  and  no  standing  rule  to  appeal  to;  the 
subject  is  the  slave  of  one  man.  No  one  can  be  subjected  to  the 
political  power  of  another  without  his  own  consent.  When  any 
number  of  men  have,  by  consent  of  every  individual,  made  a 
community,  they  have  thereby  made  that  community  one  body, 
with  a  power  to  act  as  one  body,  which  is  only  by  the  will  and 
determination  of  the  majority.  But  after  such  a  society  has  been 
formed,  every  man  puts  himself  under  an  obligation  to  every 
one  of  that  society  to  submit  to  the  rule  of  the  majority.  Other- 
wise, there  would  be  no  compact  if  he  were  left  free  and  under 
no  other  ties  than  he  was  before,  in  the  state  of  nature.  Unani- 
mous consent  is  next  to  impossible.  The  governments  of  the 
world  that  were  begun  in  peace  were  made  by  the  consent  of  the 
people. 

Man  gives  up  his  freedom  and  power,  because  the  enjoyment 
of  it  is  very  uncertain  and  constantly  exposed  to  the  invasion 
of  others ;  for  all  being  kings  as  much  as  he,  every  man  his  equal, 
and  the  greater  part  no  strict  observers  of  equity  and  justice, 
the  enjoyment  of  the  property  he  has  in  this  state  is  very  unsafe 
and  insecure.  If  it  were  not  for  the  viciousness  and  corruption 
of  degenerate  men,  there  would  be  no  need  of  any  society  but 
tthe  state  of  nature.  The  great  and  chief  end  of  men's  uniting 
Into  a  commonwealth  is  for  the  mutual  preservation  of  their 
lives,  liberties,  and  estates.  Hence  the  power  of  society  can  never 
be  supposed  to  extend  farther  than  the  common  good. 

The  first  and  fundamental  natural  law,  which  is  to  govern  even 
the  legislative  itself,  is  the  preservation  of  the  society  and  (so 
far  as  will  consist  with  the  public  good)  of  every  person  in  it. 
The  first  and  fundamental  positive  law  of  all  commonwealths  is 
the  establishing  of  the  legislative  power.  This  legislative  is  not 
only  the  supreme  power,  but  sacred  and  unalterable  in  the 
hands  where  the  community  have  once  placed  it ;  nor  can  any 
edict  of  anybody  else  have  the  force  and  obligation  of  a  law, 
which  has  not  the  sanction  from  that  legislative  which  the  public 
has  chosen  and  appointed.  But  the  legislative  power  cannot  be 
absolutely  arbitrary  over  the  lives  and  fortunes  of  the  people, 


328  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

it  is  limited  to  the  public  good  of  society.  The  laws  of  nature 
do  not  cease  in  society,  they  stand  as  an  eternal  rule  to  all  men, 
legislators  as  well  as  others.  Hence,  it  has  no  right  to  enslave, 
to  destroy,  or  designedly  to  impoverish  the  subjects.  Again, 
the  legislative  cannot  assume  to  itself  power  to  rule  by  ex- 
temporary arbitrary  decrees ;  standing  laws  are  needed.  Further, 
the  supreme  power  cannot  take  the  subject's  property  without 
his  consent ;  taxes  can  be  levied  only  by  consent  of  the  majority. 
Lastly,  it  cannot  delegate  the  power  of  making  laws  to  any  other 
hands. 

It  is  not  well  that  those  who  have  powers  of  making  the  laws 
should  also  have  power  to  execute  them.  The  federative  power 
is  the  power  of  war  and  peace,  leagues  and  alliances,  and  all 
transactions  with  all  persons  and  communities  without  the  com- 
monwealth. The  federative  and  executive  powers  are  almost 
always  united,  and  it  is  best  that  they  should  be  placed  in  one 
hand.  The  executive  has  the  supreme  execution  of  the  laws,  and 
should  be  exempt  from  subordination.  But  the  legislative  may 
take  both  the  executive  and  federative  powers  out  of  the  hands 
it  has  placed  them  in,  when  it  finds  cause,  and  to  punish  any 
maladministration  of  the  laws.  The  legislative  is  the  supreme 
power,  but  it  is  a  fiduciary  power  to  act  for  certain  ends.  So 
the  people  have  a  supreme  power  to  remove  and  alter  the  leg- 
islative when  they  find  it  act  contrary  to  the  trust  reposed  in  it. 
But  whilst  the  government  exists,  the  legislative  is  the  supreme 
power.  The  power  of  choosing  the  legislative  rests  with  the 
people.  Not  the  prince,  as  Hobbes  taught,  but  the  legislative  is 
the  soul  of  the  commonwealth,  and  the  legislative  represents 
the  people ;  the  people  is  the  judge  whether  the  prince  or  the 
legislative  act  contrary  to  their  trust. 

Like  all  the  great  philosophers  of  the  modern  era,  Locke 
finds  fault  with  the  methods  of  instruction  which  had  come 

down  as  a  heritage  from  scholasticism,  and  pre- 
Education  „      ,       A.        ,        ., 

sents  a  new  program  of  education  based  on  his 

empirical  psychology  and  ethics.  The  soul  being  at  birth  devoid 
of  all  principles  except  the  desire  for  pleasure  and  the  power 
to  receive  impressions,  the  problem  of  education  must  be  to 
learn  by  experience  and  to  realize  happiness.  In  order  to  solve 
it,  a  healthy  body  and  sound  sense-organs  are  requisite ;  by  ex- 


SUCCESSORS  OF  LOCKE  329 

ercise  and  habit  the  body  must  be  hardened;  hence,  the  need 
of  physical  training  for  the  child  and  a  frugal  mode  of  life. 
The  individuality  of  the  child  is  to  be  developed  in  a  natural 
manner;  hence,  private  instruction  is  preferable.  Locke  also 
emphasizes  the  importance  of  object  lessons,  of  learning  by  play, 
and  of  arousing  the  pupil's  mental  activities;  study  is  to  be 
made  a  delight.  Above  all,  the  social  end  of  education  should 
not  be  lost  sight  of :  the  youth  is  to  be  trained  as  a  useful  member 
of  society. 


49.   SUCCESSORS  OF  LOCKE 

Locke's  teachings  form  the  starting-point  of  many  lines  of 
thought,  and  his  influence,  like  that  of  Descartes,  extended  far 
beyond  his  age  and  the  boundaries  of  his  country. 
The  remark  which  Schiller  once  made  of  a  great 
man  applies  to  him:  he  had  marrow  in  his  bones 
to  last  for  centuries.  His  Essay  was  the  first  attempt  at  a 
comprehensive  theory  of  knowledge  in  the  history  of  modern 
philosophy  and  inaugurated  the  movement  which  produced 
Berkeley  and  Hume  and  culminated  in  Kant.  His  empirical 
psychology  became  the  source  from  which  English  associationism 
(Browne  and  Hartley)  and  French  sensationalism  (Condillac, 
Helvetius)  drew  their  nourishment.  His  ethical  philosophy  was 
continued  and  corrected  by  the  work  of  Shaftesbury,  Hutcheson, 
Ferguson,  Hume,  and  Adam  Smith.  His  theory  of  education 
influenced  the  great  French  author  Rousseau  and,  through  him, 
the  entire  world.  His  political  ideas  found  brilliant  exponents 
in  Voltaire,  Montesquieu's  Esprit  des  lois,  and  a  radical  con- 
tinuation in  Rousseau's  Contrat  social;  while  the  spirit  of  his 
entire  thought  gave  an  impetus  to  the  religious  movement  of 
the  deists  in  England  and  in  France.  In  Locke  the  forces  that 
were  making  for  enlightenment  were  concentrated  and  reflected 
more  faithfully  than  in  any  thinker  before  him.  He  represents 
the  spirit  of  the  modern  era,  the  spirit  of  independence  and 
criticism,  the  spirit  of  individualism,  and  the  spirit  of  democ- 
racy, the  spirit  which  had  sought  utterance  in  the  religious  Ref- 
ormation and  in  the  political  revolutions  of  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries,  and  which  reached  its  climax  in  the  En- 


330  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

lightenment  of  the  eighteenth  century.  No  philosopher  has  been 
more  successful  than  he  in  impressing  his  thought  on  the  minds 
and  institutions  of  men. 

Deism  begins,  as  a  vital  movement,  with  Locke's  book  on  the 
Reasonableness  of  Christianity  (1695).  Locke  had  set  up  rea- 

.  son  as  the  ultimate  test  of  revelation;  revealed 

truths  are  absolutely  certain,  of  that  there  is  no 
doubt,  but  human  reason  is  the  criterion  of  revelation  itself. 
"With  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  the  great  empiricist  accepted  as  true 
certain  propositions  of  natural  or  rational  theology;  only,  he 
did  not  regard  them  as  innate.  The  deists  apply  these  Lockian 
ideas,  subjecting  revelation  to  rational  standards,  and  seek  the 
true  revelations  of  God  in  the  laws  of  nature.  On  this  basis, 
Christianity  is  fashioned  into  a  rational  religion ;  it  is  not  mys- 
terious, it  is  as  old  as  creation.  John  Toland  writes  Chris- 
tianity not  Mysterious  (1696),  a  book  which  was  condemned  by 
the  Anglican  Church.  In  his  Letters  to  Serena  (1704)  and 
Pantheisticon  (1720),  he  accepts  a  nature-religion,  which  he 
calls  pantheism  (a  term  coined  by  him).  A.  Collins  writes  his 
Discourse  of  Free  Thinking  (1713),  in  which  he  opposes  the 
interference  of  the  Church  with  critical  discussions  of  the  Bible. 
Other  deistic  works  are :  Tindal,  Christianity  as  Old  as  the  Crea- 
tion (1730)  ;  Woolston,  Six  Discourses  on  the  Miracles  of  Our 
Savior  (1727-1730)  ;  Chubb,  The  True  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ 
(1738);  Morgan,  The  Moral  Philosopher  (1737).  Conybeare 
(1732)  and  Joseph  Butter  (1736)  defend  revealed  religion 
against  deism. 

Stephen,  History  of  English  Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century, 
2  vols. ;  J.  M.  Robertson,  Short  History  of  Free  Thought.,  2  vols.; 
Lechler,  Geschichte  des  englischen  Deismus.  See  bibliography  in  Britan- 
nica  under  Deism. 

In  his  account  of  the  origin  of  knowledge,  Locke  distinguishes 
between  sensation  and  reflection;  he  also  endows  the  mind  with 
certain  powers  or  faculties  which  act  on  the  mate- 
rials of  sense.     The  attempt  is  made  by  many  of 
his  followers  to  explain  all  mental  processes,  reflection  as  well 
as  the  faculties,  as  transformed  sensations:  reflection  and  the 
powers  of  the  understanding  are  reduced  to  sensation.     Peter 


SUCCESSORS  OF  LOCKE  331 

Browne,  Bishop  of  Cork  (died  1735;  The  Procedure,  Extent, 
and  Limits  of  the  Understanding,  1728),  presents  this  view, 
which  is  worked  out  in  detail  by  the  French  abbe,  6tienne  de 
Condillac  (1715-1780)  in  his  Trait  e  des  sensations,  1754.  Con- 
dillac  tries  to  show  how  a  being  endowed  with  but  a  single  sense, 
— smell,  for  example, — would  develop,  in  turn,  attention,  mem- 
ory, comparison,  pleasure  and  pain,  passion,  desire,  will.  From 
comparison,  which  is  nothing  but  the  multiplication  of  sensa- 
tions, arise  judgment,  reflection,  reasoning,  and  abstraction,  that 
is,  understanding.  Eeflection,  or  the  ego,  is  simply  the  sum 
of  the  sensations  which  we  now  have  and  those  which  we  have 
had.  In  order,  however,  to  obtain  the  idea  of  an  external  world, 
i.e.,  extension,  form,  solidity,  and  body,  the  sense  of  touch  is 
needed.  This  yields  us  knowledge  of  objective  reality, — there 
is  something  other  than  ourselves, — but  what  the  nature  of  this 
other  is,  we  do  not  know. 

Sensationalism,  in  some  form  or  other,  became  popular  in 
England  and  in  France,  among  its  followers  being:  Hartley, 
Priestley,  Erasmus  Darwin,  James  Mill,  J.  Bentham,  Helvetius, 
Condorcet,  Volney,  the  Encyclopedists,  and  the  materialists. 
Charles  de  Bonnet  (1720-1793)  teaches  a  moderate  sensational- 
ism, but  regards  all  mental  operations,  the  higher  as  well  as 
the  lower,  as  dependent  on  brain  vibrations,  which  cause  reac- 
tions in  an  immaterial  soul.  Helvetius  applies  sensationalism  to 
ethics. 

The  law  of  the  association  of  ideas  (ideas  are  associated  in 
the  mind  in  a  certain  regular  order),  which  had  been  noticed  by 
Aristotle  and  Hobbes  and  discussed  by  Locke  and  Gay,  was 
elaborated  and  formulated  into  a  philosophical  system  by  David 
Hartley  (1705-1757;  Observations  on  Man,  his  Frame,  his  Du- 
ties, his  Expectations,  1749).  This  law,  combined  with  the  doc- 
trine that  all  our  ideas  are  copies  of  sensations,  has  been 
employed  as  the  chief  principle  of  explanation  of  mental  life 
by  the  followers  of  empiricism,— by  Hume,  Condillac,  Priestley, 
the  Mills,  Bentham,  and  many  modern  psychologists.  In  ethics, 
it  has  been  used  to  account  for  the  moral  sentiments :  Man  learns 
to  associate  his  pleasures  with  that  which  pleases  him ;  the  moral 
sentiments  procure  for  us  many  advantages  which  we  love,  and 
we  gradually  transfer  our  affections  from  these  to  the  things 


332  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

which  procure  them,  and  in  this  way  come  to  love  virtue  for 
virtue's  sake. 

Cf .  works  mentioned  pp.  254,  f .,  and  under  Locke ;  also,  Bower,  Hartley 
and  James  Mill;  Schoenlank,  Hartley  und  Priestley:  die  Begrunder 
des  Associationismus ;  Markus,  Die  Associationstheorien.  Bibliography 
in  Ueberweg-Heinze,  Part  III,  vol.  I,  §  22. 

English  empiricism  derived  the  knowledge  of  right  and  wrong 
from  experience  and  based  morality  on  the  impulse  of  self- 
preservation  or  the  desire  for  happiness.  Bacon, 
it  is  true,  had  not  overlooked  the  social  instinct, 
but  Hobbes  and  Locke  conceived  human  nature  as  fundamentally 
egoistic  and  made  morality  a  matter  of  enlightened  self-interest. 
Rationalistic  thinkers  like  Cudworth,  Clarke,  and  Wollaston 
protested  against  such  empirical  and  egoistic  conceptions;  to 
deny  that  I  should  do  for  another  what  he  in  the  like  case  should 
do  for  me,  Clarke  said,  "is  as  if  a  man  should  contend  that 
though  two  and  three  are  equal  to  five,  they  are  not  equal  to 
two  and  three."  Richard  Cumberland  (1632-1719;  De  legibus 
naturce,  1672),  who  may  be  regarded  as  the  founder  of  English 
Utilitarianism,  refused  to  accept  the  rationalistic  doctrine  of  in- 
nate moral  knowledge,  but  he  regarded  the  egoistic  conception  of 
man,  as  a  mere  bundle  of  selfish  impulses,  as  false :  man  has  sym- 
pathetic feelings,  or  benevolence,  as  well  as  selfish  feelings.  So- 
cial life  or  the  common  welfare  is  the  highest  good,  and  we  are 
fitted  for  it  by  social  feeling  and  rationality. 

The  English  moralists  succeeding  Locke  base  our  moral  knowl- 
edge, in  the  main,  on  feeling  or  impulse  instead  of  reason  or 
innate  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  but  they  regard  these  feel- 
ings as  native  endowments  of  human  nature.  According  to  Lord 
Shaftesbury  (1671-1713;  Characteristics,  1711),  man  possesses 
self-affections  and  social  affections ;  virtue  consists  in  the  proper 
balance  between  the  two;  and  the  moral  sense  tells  us  whether 
they  are  in  harmony  or  not.  Francis  Hutcheson  (1694-1747) 
works  out  these  ideas  in  systematic  form  in  his  Inquiry  into 
the  Ideas  of  Beauty  and  Virtue,  1725,  and  System  of  Moral 
Philosophy,  1755,  and  is  the  first  to  make  use  of  the  formula: 
"  the  greatest  happiness  for  the  greatest  number."  To  the 
same  school  belong :  David  Hume  (Inquiry  concerning  the  Prin- 


SUCCE  SORS  OF  LOCKE  333 

ciples  of  Morals,  li  L),  Adam  Ferguson  (Institutes  of  Moral 
Philosophy,  1769),  and  Adam  Smith  (1723-1790),  the  author 
of  Theory  of  the  Moral  Sentiments,  1759,  and  Wealth  of  Nations, 
1776,  who  finds  the  source  and  criterion  of  the  moral  law  in  sym- 
pathy. All  these  writers  do  justice  to  the  feeling-impulse  side 
of  man 's  nature :  our  ethical  judgments  and  actions  are  rooted, 
not  in  reason,  but  in  feeling.  Most  of  them  are  intuitionists : 
either  a  native  moral  sense  distinguishes  between  the  worth  of 
motives  and  acts,  or  the  moral  judgment  is  based  on  the  feeling 
of  sympathy.  All  of  them  regard  the  general  welfare  as  the 
highest  good,  which  Cumberland  and  Shaftesbury  conceive  as 
perfection,  and  the  others  as  happiness,  though  the  distinction 
between  perfection  and  happiness  is  not,  as  yet,  clearly  drawn. 

Joseph  Butler  (1692-1752;  Sermons  upon  Human  Nature, 
1726,  Dissertation  upon  Virtue,  Analogy  of  Religion,  1736)  fol- 
lows this  school  in  its  general  teaching,  but  lays  greater  emphasis 
on  the  conscience,  which  he  conceives  not  as  a  feeling  (moral 
sense),  but  as  a  principle  of  reflection:  "  There  is  a  superior 
principle  of  reflection  or  conscience  in  every  man,  which  distin- 
guishes between  the  internal  principles  of  his  heart  as  well  as 
his  external  actions;  which  passes  judgment  upon  himself  and 
them,  and  pronounces  determinately  some  actions  to  be  in  them- 
selves just,  right,  good,  others  to  be  in  themselves  evil,  wrong, 
unjust:  which,  without  being  consulted,  without  being  advised 
with,  magisterially  exerts  itself,  and  approves  or  condemns  him 
the  doer  of  them  accordingly. ' '  Had  it  strength  as  it  had  right, 
it  would  absolutely  govern  the  world.  He  also  finds  in  indi- 
vidual happiness  the  ultimate  rational  standard,  though  not 
the  psychological  motive  of  right  and  wrong.  Conscience  or  duty 
and  self-love  or  interest,  if  we  understand  our  true  happiness, 
always  lead  us  the  same  way ;  they  are  perfectly  coincident,  for 
the  most  part  in  this  world,  but  entirely  and  in  every  instance 
if  we  take  in  the  future  and  the  whole.  Our  ideas  of  happiness 
and  misery  are  the  nearest  and  most  important  to  us ;  they  will 
and  ought  to  prevail  over  those  of  order  and  beauty  and  har- 
mony and  proportion,  if  there  ever  should  be,  as  it  is  impossible 
there  ever  should  be,  any  inconsistency  between  them.  When  we 
sit  down  in  a  cool  hour,  we  can  neither  justify  to  ourselves  the 
pursuit  of  what  is  right  and  good,  as  such,  or  any  other  pursuit, 


334  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

till  we  are  convinced  that  it  will  be  for  our  happiness,  or  at 
least  not  contrary  to  it. 

William  Paley,  in  his  Principles  of  Moral  and  Political  Phi- 
losophy, 1785,  rejects  the  moral  sense,  and  declares  that  actions 
are  to  be  estimated  according  to  their  tendency.  Whatever  is 
expedient  is  right.  "  Virtue  is  the  doing  good  to  mankind,  in 
obedience  to  the  will  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  everlasting 
happiness." 

In  opposition  to  Shaftesbury,  Bernard  Mandeville  (1670-1733; 
The  Grumbling  Hive:  or  Knaves  Turned  Honest,  1705,  The 
Fable  of  the  Bees:  or  Private  Vices  Public  Benefits,  1714)  tries 
to  show  that  selfishness  (private  vices)  contributes  more  to  the 
public  good  than  benevolence.  The  Frenchman  Helvetius  (1715- 
1771;  De  I'esprit,  1758,  De  I'homme,  1772)  follows  Hobbes  and 
Mandeville  in  making  egoism  the  sole  motive  of  human  action, 
and  enlightened  self-interest  the  criterion  of  morals.  The  only 
way  to  make  a  man  moral  is  to  make  him  see  his  own  welfare 
in  the  public  welfare,  and  this  can  be  done  by  legislation  only, 
i.e.,  by  proper  rewards  and  punishments.  The  science  of  morals 
is  nothing  but  the  science  of  legislation.  This  theory  is,  after 
all,  the  Lockian  theory  stripped  of  its  theological  additions. 

This  individualistic  view,  which  is  found  in  Locke  and  Paley, 
and  also  affects  Butler's  theory,  is  reflected  in  the  economic 
theories  of  the  French  physiocrats  (Francois 
Economy  Quesnay,  1694-1774;  A.  Turgot,  1727-1781)  and  in 
Adam  Smith's  Wealth  of  Nations;  all  of  these 
oppose  the  old  mercantile  system  which  sprang  up  in  Europe 
at  the  close  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  new  political  economy 
is  based  on  the  idea  that  the  individual  has  a  natural  right 
to  exercise  his  activity  in  the  economic  sphere  with  the  least  pos- 
sible interference  from  society  (laisser  faire).  The  assumption 
is  that  with  unrestricted  competition,  the  removal  of  unnatural 
restraints  (among  them  monopolies  or  privileges),  the  freedom 
of  exchange,  the  security  of  contract  and  property,  enlightened 
self-interest  will  succeed  in  realizing  not  only  the  good  of  the 
individual,  but  also  the  public  welfare.  The  conception  of  laissei 
faire  is  an  expression  of  the  general  theory  of  natural  rights  and 
demands  an  open  road  for  the  individual  in  the  pursuit  of  life 
liberty,  and  happiness,  holding  that  this  will  lead  to  social 


GEORGE  BERKELEY  835 

justice :  ' '  the  simple  and  obvious  system  of  natural  liberty 
establishes  itself  of  its  own  accord  "  (A.  Smith).  The  theory 
rendered  service  in  helping  to  discredit  and  overthrow  the  old 
system  and  to  deliver  the  individual  from  harmful  restraints. 

See  works  mentioned  pp.  254,  f.,  especially  the  histories  of  ethics  and 
politics;  also:  ed.  of  Shaftesbury's  Characteristics  by  J.  M.  Robertson; 
Fowler,  Shaftesbury  and  Hutcheson;  Gizicki,  Philosophic  Shaftesburys; 
Rand,  Life,  Letters  and  Philosophical  Regimen  of  Shaftesbury  •  ed.  of 
Butler's  works  by  Gladstone;  Collins,  Butler;  Farrer,  A.  Smith. 

50.    GEORGE  BERKELEY 

Bodies,  according  to  Locke,  produce  sensations  in  the  mind, 
sensations  or  ideas  of  extension,  solidity,  motion,  color,  sound, 

taste,  smell,  touch.     Some  of  these  are  copies  of   , 

....  The  Problem 

things  as  they  are,  or  primary  qualities,  others  are 

the  effects  on  us  of  powers  in  things,  but  not  exact  representa- 
tions. Sensations  furnish  the  materials  of  the  mind,  the  alphabet 
of  all  our  knowledge.  The  soul  acts  on  them,  arranging,  uniting, 
separating,  and  relating  them ;  and  also  reflects  on  its  own  opera- 
tions. All  our  knowledge,  therefore,  is  confined  to  the  facts  of 
experience ;  we  have  a  direct  knowledge  only  of  our  ideas.  We 
also  know  that  there  is  an  external  world,  but  this  knowledge 
is  not  so  self-evident  as  the  knowledge  of  our  own  ideas. 

Bishop  Berkeley  makes  use  of  the  basal  teaching  of  Locke  in 
order  to  refute  materialism  and  atheism.  If  the  basis  of  our 
knowledge  is  sensation  and  reflection,  and  we  know  only  ideas, 
how  can  we  know  a  world  of  bodies,  a  material  world  without 
us?  We  are  limited,  so  far  as  matter  is  concerned,  to  our  states 
of  consciousness ;  we  cannot  compare  our  ideas  with  these  corporeal 
substances;  we  do  not  know  what  they  are  or  that  they  are. 
If  there  is  matter  and  the  Lockian  theory  is  true,  we  cannot 
know  it;  we  become  entangled  in  skepticism.  Besides,  if  there 
is  an  independent  substance  like  matter  and  a  world  of  pure 
space,  then  there  is  an  infinite,  eternal  immutable  reality  exist- 
ing alongside  of  God  and  limiting  God,  yes,  even  suggesting  the 
non-existence  of  God.  The  belief  in  matter,  therefore,  leads  to 
atheism  and  materialism.  The  grounds  of  skepticism,  atheism, 
and  irreligion  lie  in  the  view  that  matter  or  a  world  of  bodies 
exists.  We  can  avoid  these  irreligious  consequences  only  by 


SS6  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

getting  rid  of  the  premise  from  which  they  spring :  the  assertion 
that  matter  exists.  We  can  explain  the  universe  without  such 
a  premise:  given  God,  the  supreme  Spirit,  and  other  spiritual 
beings,  we  can  account  for  all  the  facts.  The  paramount  ques- 
tion for  Berkeley,  therefore,  is,  Does  a  world  exist  without  mind, 
is  there  an  independent  world  of  matter? 

George  Berkeley  (1685-1753),  born  in  Ireland,  studied  at  Trinity 
College,  Dublin,  traveled,  and  became  Bishop  of  Cloyne  in  1734.  In 
1732  he  was  sent  to  Rhode  Island  to  establish  missions.  Among  his 
works  are:  An  Essay  towards  a  New  Theory  of  Vision,  1709,  A 
Treatise  concerning  the  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  1710,  Three 
Dialogues  between  Hylas  and  Philonous,  1713,  Alciphron,  or  the 
Minute  Philosopher,  1732. 

Works  edited  by  A.  C.  Fraser,  4  vols.,  2d  ed.;  Selections  from 
Berkeley,  by  Fraser.  Fraser,  Berkeley,  and  Berkeley,  Spiritual  Real- 
ism; Simon,  Universal  Immaterialism;  Gourg,  Le  journal  philos.  de 
Berkeley  (Commonplace  Book). 

It  is  a  mistake,  says  Berkeley,  to  hold  that  our  ignorance  is 
due  to  the  limitations  of  our  human  faculties ;  Providence  usually 
furnishes  the  appetites  it  may  have  implanted  in 
Knowledge  creatures  with  the  means  of  satisfying  them,  if 
these  appetites  are  rightly  made  use  of.  Hence,  it 
is  to  be  supposed  that  the  desire  for  knowledge  can  be  satisfied 
by  a  proper  use  of  our  faculties,  and  that  we  can  deduce  from 
true  principles  tenable  deductions.  It  is  well  deserving  our 
pains,  therefore,  to  make  a  strict  inquiry  concerning  the  Prin- 
ciples of  Human  Knowledge,  to  sift  and  examine  them  on  all 
sides. 

The  chief  cause  of  the  opinion  that  external  objects  (houses, 
mountains,  rivers)  have  a  natural  or  real  existence,  distinct  from 
being  perceived,  is  the  doctrine  that  the  mind  can  frame  abstract 
ideas.  This,  however,  is  not  the  case.  We  can  imagine,  or  rep- 
resent to  ourselves,  the  ideas  o£  the  particular  things  we  have 
perceived,  and  we  can  variously  divide  and  compound  them. 
But  we  cannot,  for  example,  find  in  our  thoughts  an  idea  corre- 
sponding with  the  description  of  the  general  idea  of  a  triangle, 
of  a  triangle  that  is  "  neither  oblique  nor  rectangle,  equilateral, 
equicrural,  nor  scalenon,  but  all  and  none  of  these  at  once."  It 
is  true,  a  man  may  consider  a  figure  merely  as  triangular  with- 
out attending  to  the  particular  qualities  of  the  angles  or  re- 


GEORGE  BERKELEY  337 

lations  of  the  sides.  So  far  he  may  abstract  ;  but  this  will  never 
prove  that  he  can  frame  an  abstract,  general,  inconsistent  idea 
of  a  triangle.  Similarly,  we  cannot  frame  the  distinct  idea  of 
motion,  distinct  from  the  body  moving,  and  which  is  neither 
swift  nor  slow,  curvilinear  nor  rectilinear.  There  are  general 
ideas,  to  be  sure,  in  this  sense:  an  idea  which,  considered  in 
itself,  is  particular  becomes  general  by  being  made  to  represent 
or  stand  for  all  other  particular  ideas  of  the  same  sort.  We 
use  one  name  or  sign  for  all  particular  ideas  of  the  same  sort, 
and  because  we  use  one  name,  we  come  to  believe  there  is  one 
general  or  abstract  idea  corresponding  to  it.  Such  supposed 
abstract  ideas  are  not  needful  for  the  communication  nor  for 
the  enlargement  of  our  knowledge.* 

-  The  idea  of  a  world  without  the  mind,  that  is,  of  a  real  world 
of  matter,  is  such  an  abstract  idea.  We  separate  the  sensible 
objects  from  their  being  perceived,  we  conceive  of  matter  as 
existing  unperceived.  This  is  impossible.  We  cannot  see  or  feel 
anything  without  an  actual  sensation  of  that  thing,  nor  can  we 
conceive  any  sensible  thing  or  object,  distinct  from  the  sensa- 
tion or  perception  of  it. 

With  Locke,  Berkeley  agrees  that  the  objects  of  human  knowl- 
edge are  either  actually  imprinted  on  the  senses  or  such  as  are 
perceived  by  attending  to  the  passions  and  operations  of  the 
mind  ;  or,  lastly,  ideas  formed  by  the  help  of  memory  and  imagi- 
nation. These  ideas  we  compound,  divide,  or  barely  represent. 
Besides  ideas  there  is  likewise  something  which  knows  or  per- 
ceives them,  and  exercises  diverse  operations,  —  as  willing,  imag- 
ing, remembering,  —  about  them.  This  perceiving,  acting  being 
is  mind,  spirit,  soul,  myself.  It  is  entirely  distinct  from  my 
ideas,  it  is  a  thing  wherein  they  exist  or  whereby  they  are  per- 
ceived, for  the  existence  of  an  idea  consists  in  being  perceived. 

Now,  everybody  will  grant  that  our  thoughts  and  passions  and 
the  pictures  of  the  imagination  do  not  exist  without  the  mind  ; 
they  are  all  in  the  mind,  their  existence  consists 


in  their  being  perceived  or  known  by  the  mind. 


The  same  thing,  however,  is  true  also  of  our  sen- 

sations ;  here,  too,  existence  means  to  be  perceived  :  esse  is  percipi. 

*This    nominalistic   doctrine     Berkeley    modified    in    later   years.      See 
vol.  II,  Alciphron,  pp.  436,  ff. 


338  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

When  I  say  the  table  I  write  on  exists,  I  mean  that  I  can  see 
and  feel  it.  When  I  say  it  exists  when  I  am  out  of  the  room, 
I  mean  that  if  I  were  in  the  room  I  might  perceive  it, 
or  that  some  other  mind  actually  does  perceive  it.  To  say 
things  exist  when  no  mind  perceives  them,  is  perfectly 
unintelligible.  To  exist  means  to  be  perceived,  to  be  in  the 
mind.  Bodies,  therefore,  have  no  existence  without  a  mind; 
their  being  consists  in  being  perceived  or  known;  so  long 
as  they  are  not  perceived  by  me  or  do  not  exist  in  my  mind  or 
that  of  any  other  created  spirit,  they  have  no  existence  at 
all,  or  else  exist  in  the  mind  of  some  eternal  spirit.  It  is 
a  contradiction  in  terms  to  say  matter  exists  without  the 
mind. 

That  this  is  so  follows  necessarily  from  the  idea  of  the  body 
as  held  by  Locke.  A  body  is  a  solid,  extended,  figured  substance 
having  the  power  of  motion,  possessing  a  certain  color,  weight, 
taste,  smell,  and  sound.  Certain  of  its  qualities,  however,  do  not 
inhere  in  it ;  color,  sound,  taste,  smell  are  the  eif ects  of  the  body 
produced  in  a  perceiving  subject,  they  are  not  qualities  of  the 
body  itself,  but  in  me;  we  call  them  secondary  qualities.  Ex- 
tension, figure,  solidity,  motion,  rest  are  said  to  be  qualities 
inherent  in  the  substance,  body,  itself;  they  are  the  primary 
qualities.  But,  says  Berkeley,  these  so-called  primary  qualities 
are  just  as  secondary  as  the  others.  The  ideas  of  extension  and 
solidity  I  get  through  the  sense  of  touch;  they  are  sensations 
in  my  mind  also.  I  cannot  separate  my  idea  of  extension  from 
the  idea  of  color  and  other  secondary  qualities ;  I  never  perceive 
an  extended  thing  which  is  not  at  the  same  time  colored,  and 
so  on.  The  primary  qualities  are  inseparably  united  with  the 
secondary;  I  cannot  abstract  the  latter  and  leave  behind  an  ex- 
tended solid  substance,  which  is  that  and  nothing  else.  I  have 
no  abstract  idea  in  my  mind  of  such  a  substance.  But,  it  is 
said,  there  must  be  something  outside  which  supports,  or  stands 
under,  these  qualities, — a  substance.  That,  again,  says  Berkeley, 
is  a  mere  abstraction;  there  is  no  meaning  whatever  in  the 
words  material  substance.  Even  if  it  were  possible  for  such 
a  solid,  figured,  movable  substance  to  exist  without  the  mind, 
how  could  we  know  it?  Moreover,  all  our  ideas  or  sensations, 
or  the  things  perceived,  are  inactive,  they  have  no  power  to  do 


GEORGE  BERKELEY  339 

anything  ;  hence  extension,  figure,  motion,  all  of  which  are  ideas, 
cannot  be  the  cause  of  sensations. 

But,  you  say,  there  must  be  some  cause  of  the  sensations  or 
ideas  in  my  mind.  And  so  there  is,  and  this  cause  must  be 
an  active  substance.  It  cannot,  however,  be  a 


material  substance,  for  there  is  none  such,  hence  ° 


it  must  be  an  incorporeal,  active  substance  or 
Spirit.  A  spirit  is  one,  undivided,  active  being,  —  as  it  perceives 
ideas,  it  is  called  understanding;  as  it  produces  or  otherwise 
operates  about  them,  it  is  called  will.  There  can  be  no  idea 
formed  of  soul  or  spirit,  because  all  ideas  are  passive  and  inert, 
hence  we  can  have  no  idea  or  image  or  likeness  of  that  which 
acts.  We  cannot  perceive  the  spirit  itself,  but  only  the  effects 
which  it  produces.  Still,  we  have  some  notion  of  soul  or  spirit 
and  the  operations  of  the  mind,  such  as  willing,  loving,  hating, 
inasmuch  as  we  understand  the  meaning  of  these  words. 

Some  ideas  I  can  make  and  unmake  at  pleasure  ;  in  this  respect 
my  mind  is  active,  I  have  power  over  my  own  thoughts.  But 
my  sensations  I  have  no  such  power  over.  I  open  my  eyes:  it 
is  not  in  my  power  to  choose  whether  I  shall  see  or  no,  or  to 
determine  what  particular  objects  shall  present  themselves  to 
my  view.  The  ideas  imprinted  on  my  senses  are  not  creatures 
of  my  will.  Hence,  there  is  some  other  Will  or  Spirit  that 
produces  them.  The  ideas  of  sense  are  more  strong,  lively,  and 
distinct  than  those  of  the  imagination;  they  have  likewise  a 
steadiness,  order,  and  coherence  and  are  not  excited  at  random, 
as  those  which  are  the  effects  of  human  will  often  are,  but  in 
a  regular  train  or  series,  the  admissible  connection  whereof  suf- 
ficiently testifies  the  wisdom  and  benevolence  of  its  Author. 
Now,  the  set  rules  or  established  methods  wherein  the  Mind  we 
depend  on  excites  in  us  the  ideas  of  sense,  are  called  the  laws 
of  nature;  anot^these  we  learn  by  experience,  which  teaches  us 
that  such  and  such  ideas  are  attended  with  such  and  such  other 
ideas  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things.  God,  in  other  words, 
arouses  in  us  certain  ideas  in  a  certain  order;  he  has  connected 
with  the  idea  of  food  the  idea  of  nourishment;  with  the  idea 
of  sleep,  the  idea  of  refreshment;  with  the  visual  sensation  of 
fire,  the  bodily  sensation  of  warmth.  If  there  were  no  such 
regular  order  in  our  sensations,  we  would  be  eternally  at  a  loss, 


340  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

we  would  not  know  what  to  do:  that  there  is  such  regularity 
in  the  flow  of  our  sensations  enables  us  to  regulate  our  actions 
for  the  benefit  of  life.  We  notice  this  connection  between  our 
ideas  and  erroneously  come  to  believe  that  the  ideas  cause  each 
other,  that  fire  produces  warmth,  that  sleep  causes  refreshment, 
that  collision  of  bodies  causes  sound.  The  ideas  imprinted  on 
the  senses  by  God  are  called  real  things;  and  those  excited  in 
the  imagination,  being  less  regular,  vivid,  and  constant,  are  more 
properly  termed  ideas  or  images  of  things  which  they  copy  or 
represent.  But  our  sensations  are  ideas,  nevertheless;  they  exist 
in  the  mind;  they  are  simply  more  vivid,  strong,  orderly,  and 
coherent  ideas  than  our  images ;  they  are  also  less  dependent  on 
the  thinking  substance  which  perceives  them,  for  they  are  ex- 
cited by  the  will  of  another  more  powerful  Spirit. 

What,  however,  becomes  of  the  sun,  moon,  stars,  the  houses, 

mountains,  rivers,  trees,  and  stones,  on  this  hypothesis?     Are 

they  but  chimeras  or  illusions  of  the  fancy?    Not 

Answered8  a^  a^'  sa^s  our  idealist.  They  exist  in  the  sense 
given  above,  they  are  real  things  in  the  sense  that 
God  arouses  these  sensations  in  us  in  a  regular  coherent  order. 
Material  substance,  too,  is  real  in  this  sense,  if  we  mean  by  it 
a  combination  of  sensible  qualities,  such  as  extension,  solidity, 
weight,  and  the  like.  If  we  mean  by  it  a  support  of  accidents 
or  qualities  without  the  mind,  it  does  not  exist  even  in  the  imagi- 
nation. But  does  this  not  mean  that  we  eat  and  drink  ideas, 
and  are  clothed  with  ideas?  We  eat  and  drink  and  are  clad 
with  the  immediate  objects  of  sense,  which  cannot  exist  unper- 
ceived  or  without  the  mind.  It  is  more  proper,  therefore,  to 
call  them  things  rather  than  ideas.  But,  we  see  things  without 
us  at  a  distance.  The  consideration  of  this  difficulty  gave  birth 
to  the  Essay  towards  a  New  Theory  of  Vision,  in  which  Berke- 
ley holds  that  distance,  or  outness,  is  not  immediately  perceived 
by  sight,  nor  yet  apprehended  or  judged  of  by  lines  and  angles, 
or  anything  that  has  a  necessary  connection  with  it.  Ideas  of 
sight  or  visual  sensations  come  to  suggest  to  us  certain  ideas  of 
touch  and  ideas  of  locomotion.  When  the  object  seems  indis- 
tinct and  small,  experience  has  taught  us  that  it  is  far  off,  at 
a  distance,  that  we  must  walk  far  to  get  a  distinct  and  larger 
picture. 


GEORGE  BERKELEY  341 

But  does  not  everything  disappear  when  I  close  my  eyes? 
The  things  are  no  longer  perceived  by  me,  hence  they  ought 
no  longer  to  exist.  Well,  says  Berkeley,  the  same  difficulties 
would  confront  those  who  hold  the  other  view.  Do  the  colors 
and  sounds  disappear  when  I  shut  my  eyes  and  ears  ?  The  par- 
ticular bodies  we  see,  all  have  color,  sound,  figure,  size.  If  these 
disappear,  what  is  left  of  the  world?  Besides,  I  may  say  that 
when  I  close  my  eyes  the  things  are  perceived  by  other  minds. 

Again,  does  not  this  idealism  do  away  with  the  whole  cor- 
puscular philosophy  ?  Berkeley  answers,  there  is  no  phenomenon 
explained  by  that  hypothesis  which  cannot  be  explained  without 
it.  No  one  really  knows  how  matter  operates  on  a  spirit  or  pro- 
duces any  idea  in  it.  Besides,  the  natural  philosophers  do  not 
account  for  things  by  corporeal  substance,  but  by  figure,  mo- 
tion, and  other  qualities,  which  are,  in  truth,  no  more  than 
mere  ideas  and  cannot,  therefore,  be  the  cause  of  anything. 

Still,  would  it  not  be  absurd  to  speak  in  the  language  of  this 
new  theory,  to  say  a  spirit  heats  instead  of  fire  heats  ?  Berkeley 
replies:  in  such  things  we  ought  to  think  with  the  learned  and 
speak  with  the  vulgar.  Those  who  accept  the  Copernican  theory 
still  speak  of  the  sun  rising.  It  is  said,  however,  that  the  whole 
world  believes  in  matter.  Is  the  whole  world  mistaken?  But, 
does  the  whole  world  really  believe  it?  It  is  a  contradiction  to 
believe  it.  The  truth  is,  men  have  no  speculative  opinion  at  all 
about  it.  Besides,  universal  consent  is  no  proof.  We  can  account 
for  the  prejudice.  Men  assumed  that  their  sensations  had  an 
existence  independent  of  the  mind  and  without  the  mind,  be- 
cause they  themselves  were  not  the  authors  of  them.  They  did 
not  dream  that  a  contradiction  was  involved  in  the  terms.  It 
was  supposed  that  qualities  existed  without  the  mind  and  that, 
therefore,  an  unthinking  substance  was  needed.  Then  it  was 
held  that  secondary  qualities  had  no  extra-mental  existence. 
Since,  however,  the  primary  qualities  do  not  exist  without  the 
mind  either,  substance  becomes  unnecessary.  If  you  say,  per- 
haps there  is  a  substance  having  qualities  as  incomprehensible 
to  us  as  color  is  to  a  man  born  blind,  we  ask,  What  is  the 
advantage  of  disputing  about  an  unknown  support  of  unknown 
qualities,  about  something  we  know  not  what  and  know  not 
whyf  Besides,  if  we  had  a  new  sense  to  perceive  these  qualities, 


342  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

we  should  have  all  the  difficulties  over  again.  If  matter  is 
defined  as  an  unknown  somewhat,  neither  substance  nor  attribute, 
spirit  nor  idea,  as  inert,  thoughtless,  indivisible,  immovable,  un- 
extended,  existing  in  no  place,  then  it  is  nothing.  If  you  dis- 
tinguish it  from  nothing  by  giving  it  existence,  quiddity,  entity, 
I  say  this  idea  to  me  is  incomprehensible  trifling  with  words. 

Spirits,  then,  are  active  indivisible  substances ;  ideas  are  inert, 
fleeting,  dependent  things  which  subsist  not  by  themselves,  but 
are  supported  by  or  exist  in  minds  or  spiritual 
Knowledge  substances.  We  comprehend  our  own  existence  by 
Sf  iritTand  inward  feeling  °r  reflection,  and  that  of  other 
Relations  spirits  by  reason.  We  may  be  said  to  have  some 
knowledge  or  notion  of  our  own  minds,  of  spirits, 
and  active  beings,  whereof,  in  a  strict  sense,  we  have  no  ideas. 
In  like  manner,  we  know  and  have  a  notion  of  relations  between 
things  or  ideas, — which  relations  are  distinct  from  the  ideas  or 
things  related,  inasmuch  as  the  latter  may  be  perceived  by  us 
without  our  perceiving  the  former.  .  Berkeley  holds  that  ideas, 
spirits,  and  relations  are  all  in  their  respective  kinds  objects  of 
human  knowledge  and  subjects  of  discourse;  and  that  the  term 
idea  will  be  improperly  extended  to  signify  everything  we  know 
or  have  any  notion  of.  Ideas  imprinted  on  the  senses  are  real 
things,  or  do  really  exist,  but  they  cannot  subsist  without  the 
minds  which  perceive  them;  they  are  not  resemblances  of  any 
archetype  existing  without  the  mind.  They  may  be  called  ex- 
ternal in  the  sense  that  they  are  not  generated  within  the  mind 
itself,  but  imprinted  by  a  spirit  distinct  from  that  which  per- 
ceives them.  Sensible  objects  may  also  be  said  to  be  "  without 
the  mind  "  in  the  sense  that  when  I  shut  my  eyes  the  things 
still  exist,  but  they  must  be  in  another  mind. 

This  idealistic  theoiy,  Berkeley  declares,  banishes  from  phi- 
losophy several  obscure  and  difficult  questions:  Whether  cor- 
poreal substances  can  think?  Whether  matter  is 
Refutation  infinitely  divisible?  How  it  operates  on  spirit? 
Atheilm^and  Jt  reduces  human  knowledge  to  knowledge  of  ideas 
Skepticism  an^  knowledge  of  spirits.  It  gets  rid  of  the  dual- 
ism of  intelligible  objects,  or  objects  in  the  miiid, 
and  real  objects  without  the  mind.  This  dualism  is  the  root 
of  skepticism,  for  how  can  we  know  that  the  things  which  are 


GEORGE  BERKELEY  343 

perceived  are  conformable  to  the  things  which  are  not  per- 
ceived? If  color,  figure,  motion,  extension,  and  the  like  are 
referred  to  things  outside  the  mind,  we  see  appearances  only, 
not  the  real  qualities  of  things,  and  are  landed  in  skepticism; 
we  distrust  the  senses.  All  doubt  vanishes  on  our  theory. 

The  doctrine  of  matter  is  also  the  cause  of  atheism;  give  it 
up  and  the  whole  fabric  falls  to  the  ground.  If  the  self-existent, 
stupid,  unthinking  substance  is  the  root  and  origin  of  all  things, 
we  exclude  freedom,  intelligence,  and  design  from  the  formation 
of  things.  Give  up  matter  and  your  Epicureans,  Hobbists,  and 
the  like  have  not  even  the  shadow  of  a  pretense.  Idolatry,  too, 
falls  with  matter,  for  if  objects  of  sense  are  merely  so  many 
sensations  in  the  mind,  then  men  cannot  fall  down  and  worship 
their  own  ideas.  Also,  take  away  material  substance  and  mean 
by  body  what  every  plain  ordinary  person  means  by  the  word: 
to  wit,  that  which  is  immediately  seen  and  felt,  which  is  only 
a  combination  of  qualities  or  ideas,  and  then  objections  to  resur- 
rection came  to  nothing. 

Another  source  of  error  is  the  doctrine  of  the  abstract  ideas. 
Time,  place,  and  motion,  taken  in  particular  or  concrete,  are 
what  everybody  knows;  but  having  passed  through  the  hands 
of  a  metaphysician,  they  become  too  abstract  and  fine  to  be 
apprehended  by  men  of  ordinary  sense.  Time  is  nothing  ab- 
stracted from  the  succession  of  ideas  in  our  minds,  hence  the 
duration  of  any  finite  spirit  must  be  estimated  by  the  number 
of  ideas  or  actions  succeeding  each  other  in  the  same  spirit  or 
mind.  Hence,  it  is  a  plain  consequence  that  the  soul  always 
thinks.  Also,  where  extension  is,  there  is  color  also,  i.e.,  in  the 
mind;  their  archetypes  can  exist  only  in  some  other  mind,  and 
the  objects  of  sense  are  nothing  but  those  sensations  combined, 
blended,  concreted  together;  none  of  all  which  can  be  supposed 
to  exist  unperceived.  We  cannot  frame  an  idea  of  pure  space 
exclusive  of  all  body.  Pure  space  means  the  possibility  of  limbs 
of  my  body  to  be  moved  on  all  sides  without  the  least 
resistance. 

The  skeptics  triumph  in  natural  philosophy.  They  say  we  do 
not  know  the  real  essence,  the  internal  qualities  and  constitu- 
tion of  things.  Something  there  is  in  every  drop  of  water, 
every  grain  of  sand,  which  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  human 


344  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

understanding  to  fathom  or  comprehend.  The  complaint  is 
groundless.  There  is  no  inward  essence  of  things  whence  their 
discernible  qualities  flow  or  whereon  they  depend.  It  is  also  a 
vain  labor  to  endeavor  to  explain  appearances  or  qualities,  the 
production  of  color  and  sound,  for  example,  by  the  figure,  mo- 
tion, weight,  and  such  like  qualities  of  insensible  particles. 
There  is  no  other  agent  or  efficient  cause  than  spirit;  motion  as 
well  as  all  other  ideas  is  perfectly  inert. 

The  great  principle  now  in  vogue  is  attraction.  The  word 
does  not  mean  anything  but  the  effect  itself ;  it  does  not  tell  us 
anything  as  to  the  manner  of  the  actions  whereby  it  is  produced 
or  the  cause  which  produces  it.  Many  pronounce  gravitation 
universal:  to  attract  and  to  be  attracted  by  every  other  body 
is  said  to  be  an  essential  quality  inherent  in  all  bodies.  There 
is  nothing  necessary  or  essential  in  the  case,  but  it  depends  jen- 
tirely  upon  the  Will  of  the  Governing  Spirit,  who  causes  certain 
bodies  to  cleave  together  or  tend  towards  each  other,  according  to 
various  laws.  Hence,  it  is  vain  to  inquire  into  natural  efficient 
cause  distinct  from  mind  or  spirit.  The  whole  creation  is  the 
workmanship  of  a  wise  and  good  Agent,  hence  philosophers 
should  concern  their  thoughts  about  the  final  causes  of  things. 
One  good  way  is  to  point  out  the  various  ends  to  which  things 
are  adapted,  and  for  which  they  were  originally  contrived. 
There  is  no  reason  why  observations  and  experiments  should 
not  be  made.  That  they  are  of  use  to  mankind  and  enable  us 
to  draw  general  conclusions,  is  not  the  result  of  any  immutable 
habitudes  or  relations  between  things  themselves,  but  only  of 
God's  goodness  and  kindness  to  men  in  the  administration  of 
the  world.  By  a  diligent  observation  of  phenomena  within  our 
view,  we  may  discover  the  general  laws  of  nature,  and  from 
them  deduce  the  other  phenomena;  "  I  do  not  say  demonstrate, 
for  all  deductions  of  that  kind  depend  on  the  supposition  that 
the  Author  of  Nature  always  operates  uniformly  and  in  a  con- 
stant observance  of  those  rules  we  take  for  principles:  which 
we  cannot  evidently  know."  The  rules  of  morality,  however, 
which  have  a  necessary  tendency  to  promote  the  well-being  of 
mankind,  Berkeley  thinks  can  be  demonstrated,  and  have  the 
same  immutable,  eternal  truth  with  the  propositions  of 
geometry. 


DAVID  HUME  S45 

Arthur  Collier,  in  his  Clavis  universalis,  1713,  making  Malebranche's 
system  his  starting-point,  attempts  to  prove  the  non-existence  of  an 
external  world  from  the  standpoint  of  rationalism.  Clavis  ed.  by 
Bowman.  Cf .  Lyon,  Un  idealiste  anglais,  Rev.  phil,  1880 ;  Kowalewski, 
Kritische  Analyze  von  Arthur  Colliers  Clavis  universalis. 


51.   DAVID  HUME 

Locke  taught  that  we  have  certain  knowledge  of  our  ideas, 
demonstrative  knowledge  of  God  and  of  morality,  and  prac- 
tically certain  knowledge  of  the  external  world  of 
bodies.  Berkeley  denied  the  existence  of  a  material 
world  and  limited  our  knowledge  to  ideas,  relations,  and  spiritual 
beings.  David  Hume  accepts  the  empirical  theory  of  the  origin 
of  knowledge  and  the  Berkeleyan  view  that  esse  =  percipi,  and 
draws  what  seem  to  him  the  consequences  of  these  premises.  If 
all  we  can  know  is  our  own  impressions,  we  have  no  right  to 
assert  the  reality  either  of  material  substances  or  of  spiritual 
substances.  CWe  find  no  impressions  that  justify  the  assump- 
tion of  any  kind  of  substance.  And  we  discover  nothing  in  our 
experience  that  justifies  our  notion  of  necessary  connection  or 
causation ;  cause  and  effect  can  mean  nothing  more  than  a  regu- 
lar succession  of  ideaj)  Metaphysics,  theology,  and  natural 
science  cannot  yield  universal  and  necessary  knowledge ;  the 
sciences  of  God,  the  universe,  and  the  soul  are  just  as  impossible, 
as  rational  sciences,  as  Locke  had  declared  the  science  of  bodies 
to  be.  We  can  know  only  what  we  experience,  and  we  can  reach 
only  probability  in  the  field  to  which  we  are  confined.  Hume 
agrees  with  Descartes,  Hobbes,  and  Locke  in  the  view  that  genu- 
ine knowledge  must  be  self-evident,  but  he  finds  no  such  knowl- 
edge anywhere  except  in  mathematics,  which  merely  analyzes  its 
own  concepts. 

Hume's  view  is  empiricism:  our  knowledge  has  its  source  i 
in  experience;  it  is  positivism:  our  knowledge  is  limited  to  the 
world  of  phenomena ;  it  is  agnosticism :  we  know  nothing  of  ulti- 
mates,  substances,  causes,  soul,  ego,  external  world,  universe; 
it  is  humanism :  the  human-mental  world  is  the  only  real  subject 
of  our  study. 

David  Hume,  born  in  Edinburgh,  1711,  studied  law,  served  as  sec- 
retary to  General  St.  Clair  and  later  to  Lord  Hertford   (1703-1766), 


346  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

became  librarian  to  the  Faculty  of  Law  in  Edinburgh  (1752-1757), 
and  Under-Secretary  of  State  (1767-1769).  He  wrote  his  chief  work, 
Treatise  upon  Human  Nature,  in  three  books,  during  his  first  residence 
in  France  (1734-1737),  but  the  work  made  no  impression  upon  the 
public:  it  "fell  dead-born  from  the  press,"  as  Hume  says.  He  after- 
wards worked  it  over,  in  more  popular  form,  and  published  the  three 
revised  parts  separately  (1748,  1751,  1757).  But  his  fame  during  his 
lifetime  rested  upon  his  achievements  as  a  historian  rather  than  on 
his  philosophical  works.  During  his  second  sojourn  at  Paris,  as  a 
member  of  the  English  embassy,  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Rousseau, 
Diderot,  Holbach,  Turgot,  and  d'Alembert,  and  induced  Rousseau  to 
visit  England.  He  died  in  1776. 

Among  his  works  we  mention :  Treatise  upon  Human  Nature  (1739- 
1740) ;  five  volumes  of  Essays:  1.  Essays,  Moral,  Political  and  Literary, 
1741-1742;  2.  Inquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  1748  (a  re- 
vision of  Book  I  of  the  Treatise) ;  3.  Inquiry  concerning  the  Principles 
of  Morals,  1751  (revision  of  Book  III);  4.  Political  Discourses,  1752; 
5.  Four  Dissertations,  1757,  including  A  Dissertation  on  the  Passions 
(Book  II  of  the  Treatise)  and  Natural  History  of  Eeligion.  Posthu- 
mous works:  My  Own  Life  (published  by  Adam  Smith),  1777,  Dialogues 
concerning  Natural  Religion,  1779,  Suicide  and  Immortality  of  the 
Soul,  1783.  His  History  of  England  appeared  1754-1762. 

Works  ed.  by  Green  and  Grose,  4  vols.,  1874,  new  ed.,  1909 ;  Essays 
and  Principles  of  Morals  by  Selby-Bigge,  1894;  Letters  by  Birkbeck 
Hill,  1888;  Selections  from  Treatise  by  Aikins,  from  ethical  writings 
by  Hyslop. 

Monographs  by  Huxley,  Knight,  Calderwood,  Orr;  Green,  Intro- 
duction to  Hume's  Works,  also  in  Green's  works;  Elkin,  Hume's 
Treatise  and  Inquiry;  Jodl,  Leben  und  Philosophie  Humes;  E.  Pflei- 
derer,  Empirismns  und  Skepsis  in  Humes  Philosophie;  Spicker,  Kant, 
Hume,  und  Berkeley;  Meinong,  Hume-Studien,  2  vols.;  Gizicki,  Ethik 
Humes;  Hedvall,  Humes  Erkenntnisstheorie;  Lechartier,  Hume:  mora- 
liste  et  sociologue.  See  also  McCosh,  Scottish  Philosophy,  Pringle- 
Pattison,  On  the  Scottish  Philosophy,  and  the  works  on  English  philos- 
ophy mentioned  pp.  254,  f. 

All  sciences,  says  Hume,  have  a  relation  to  human  nature. 
The  sole  end  of  logic  is  to  explain  the  principles  and  operations 

of  our  reasoning  faculty  and  the  nature  of  our 
Science  of  ideas ;  morals  and  criticism  regard  our  tastes  and 
Nature1  sentiments;  and  politics  consider  men  as  united 

in  society  and  dependent  on  each  other.  Even 
mathematics,  natural  philosophy,  and  natural  religion  are  judged 
by  the  powers  and  faculties  of  men.  Hence,  we  ought  to  study 
human  nature  itself,  in  order  to  find  the  principles  which  regu- 
late our  understanding,  excite  our  sentiments,  and  make  us 
praise  or  blame  any  particular  object,  action,  or  behavior.  What, 


DAVID  HUME  347 

we  ask,  is  the  source  of  our  distinctions  between  truth  and  false- 
hood, vice  and  virtue,  beauty  and  deformity.  The  science  of 
man,  or  moral  philosophy,  as  Hume  calls  it,  is  the  only  solid 
foundation  we  can  give  to  the  other  sciences,  and  this  science 
of  man  must  be  laid  in  experience  and  observation;  the  "  ex- 
perimental method  of  reasoning  "  must  be  introduced  into  phi- 
losophy. Hume  attempts  this  task  in  his  Treatise  upon  Human 
Nature,  of  which  Book  I  treats  of  the  Understanding,  Book  II 
of  the  Passions,  and  Book  III  of  Morals.  The  same  subjects 
are  discussed  in  the  Inquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding, 
Dissertation  on  the  Passions,  and  Inquiry  concerning  the  Prin- 
ciples of  Morals. 

The  most  important  task  is  to  inquire  into  the  nature  of  the 
human  understanding,  to  analyze  its  powers  and  capacities,  to 
show  that  it  is  not  fitted  for  the  abstruse  and  remote  subjects 
which  traditional  philosophy  has  set  before  it;  in  other  words, 
we  must  cultivate  true  metaphysics,  the  science  of  the  under- 
standing, in  order  to  destroy  the  false  and  adulterate  kind  which 
attempts  to  penetrate  into  realms  inaccessible  to  the  intellect. 
Even  if  we  could  do  no  more  than  offer  a  mental  geography, 
as  it  were,  a  delineation  of  the  distinct  parts  and  powers  of 
the  mind,  there  ought  to  be,  to  say  the  least,  as  much  satisfac- 
tion in  that  as  in  studying  the  system  of  the  planets.  But  why 
may  we  not  hope  to  discover  the  secret  springs  and  principles 
by  which  the  mind  is  actuated  in  its  operations,  that  a  Newton 
of  the  mind  may  arise  who  may  perhaps  discover  a  universal  and 
general  principle  of  the  mind? 

The  chief  problems  that  occupy  Hume  are  those  of  the  origin 
and  nature  of  knowledge.  What  is  the  source  of  our  knowledge ; 
what  are  its  certainty,  extent,  and  limitations? 
What  value  have  certain  forms  of  knowing,  or 
certain  categories,  such  as  substance  and  causality  ? 
The  answers  to  all  these  questions  are  based  on  the  answer  which 
Hume  gives  to  the  question  of  the  origin  of  knowledge.  All  the 
materials  of  our  thinking  are  derived  from  outward  and  inward 
impre;  ions.  Impressions  are  our  more  lively  perceptions,  when 
we  hear  or  see  or  feel  or  love  or  hate  or  desire  or  will :  that  is, 
all  our  sensations,  passions,  and  emotions  as  they  make  their  first 
appearance  in  the  soul.  All  our  thoughts  or  ideas  are  copies 


348  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

of  such  impressions:  they  are  the  less  lively  perceptions,  the 
faint  or  feeble  impressions;  of  which  we  are  conscious  when  we 
reflect  on  any  of  the  sensations  or  movements  mentioned.  Out- 
ward impressions,  or  sensations,  arise  in  the  soul  from  unknown 
causes,  while  the  inward  impressions  are  derived,  in  a  great 
measure,  from  our  ideas:  e.g.,  an  impression  strikes  upon  the 
senses,  we  perceive  heat  or  cold,  pleasure  or  pain.  A  copy  re- 
mains of  the  impression,  that  is  an  idea.  This  idea  of  pleasure 
or  pain  produces  new  impressions:  desire  and  aversion,  hope 
and  fear,  which  are  impressions  of  reflection.  These,  again, 
are  copied  by  the  memory  and  imagination.  Out  of  these  im- 
pressions knowledge  is  built  up  by  compounding,  transposing, 
augmenting,  or  diminishing  the  materials  furnished  us  by  the 
senses  and  experience.  The  mixture  and  composition  of  the 
impressions  belongs  alone  to  the  mind  and  will.  Analysis  shows 
that  every  idea  which  we  examine  is  copied  from  similar  impres- 
sions. Moreover,  where  there  are  no  impressions,  there  can  be 
no  ideas;  a  blind  man  can  have  no  notion  of  colors,  nor  a  deaf 
man  of  sounds.  Hence,  we  should  always  ask  ourselves  in  ex- 
amining the  meaning  of  philosophical  terms :  From  what  impres- 
sion is  the  supposed  idea  derived? 

Our  thoughts  or  ideas,  however,  are  not  entirely  loose  and 
unconnected,  not  joined  by  chance;  they  introduce  one  another 
with  a  certain  degree  of  method  and  regularity  •  there  is  a  bond 
of  union  between  them,  one  calls  up  another.  A  picture  natu- 
rally leads  our  thoughts  to  the  original  (resemblance),  the  men- 
tion of  one  apartment  in  a  house  suggests  an  adjoining  one 
(contiguity),  the  thought  of  a  wound  calls  up  the  idea  of  pain 
(cause  and  effect).  This  is  the  phenomenon  called  association 
of  ideas.  The  principles  or  laws  of  association  are  resemblance, 
contiguity  in  time  and  place,  and  cause  and  effect.  Thoughts, 
in  other  words,  tend  to  call  up  thoughts  of  like  things,  of  things 
contiguous  in  time  and  place,  and  of  things  related  as  cause 
and  effect.  By  the  union  or  association  of  ideas  according  to 
these  principles,  all  our  complex  ideas  are  formed. 

All  our  reasonings  concerning  matters  of  .fact  are  bf  ^d  on 
the  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  that  is,  we  always  seek*  a  con- 
nection between  a  present  fact  and  another.  A  man  finds  a 
watch  in  a  desert  island,  he  concludes  from  the  product  to  the 


DAVID  HUME  349 

cause,  he  infers  that  men  have  once  been  there.  On  our  search 
for  causes  and  effects  depend  our  speculations  and  practice.  It 
is,  therefore,  of  cardinal  importance  that  we  study  this  relation. 
How  do  we  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  cause  and  effect,  and 
what  is  the  validity  of  this  knowledge,  what  is  the  nature  of 
its  evidence? 

We  do  not  reach  a  knowledge  of  this  relation  by  reasonings 
a  priori.  Adam  could  not  have  inferred  a  priori,  prior  to  experi- 
ence, from  the  light  and  warmth  of  fire,  that  it  would  consume 
him.  The  mind  cannot  deduce  the  effect  from  the  supposed 
cause ;  no  amount  of  reasoning  will  enable  us  to  discover  a  priori 
the  explosion  of  gunpowder  or  the  attraction  of  the  loadstone. 
For  the  effect  is  totally  different  from  the  cause  and  can  never 
be  discovered  in  it.  We  cannot  demonstrate  that  a  certain  cause 
must  have  a  certain  effect  or  that  it  must  always  have  the  same 
effect;  we  cannot  prove  to  reason,  as  we  can  a  mathema1 
proposition,  that  bread  nourishes  and  fire  warms.  There  is  no 
necessary  connection  between  the  qualities  of  bread  and  nour- 
ishment, such  that  the  notion  of  the  one  necessarily  implies  the 
other;  if  there  were,  we  could,  without  experience,  infer  the 
effects  from  the  first  appearance  of  these  qualities,  just  as  we 
can  conclude  from  the  notion  of  a  triangle  that  the  sum  of  its 
angles  is  equal  to  two  right  angles.  There  is  nothing  logically 
contradictory  in  assuming  that  fire  will  not  warm  or  bread  nour- 
ish or  gunpowder  explode. 

Our  knowledge  of  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect  is  based 
on  observation  and  experience.  We  observe  objects  succeeding 
one  another,  that  similar  objects  are  constantly  conjoined,  that 
heat  follows  flame,  cold  snow,  that  the  motion  of  one  billiard 
ball  is  attended  by  the  movement  of  the  other.  Having  found, 
in  many  instances,  that  any  two  kinds  of  objects  have  ahv 
been  conjoined,  we  infer  that  the  objects  are  causally  related, 
that  one  is  the  cause  of  the  other.  That  is,  we  are  led  to  expect 
upon  the  appearance  of  the  one,  the  appearance  of  the  other; 
the  mind  is  carried  by  habit  or  custom  to  believe  that  the  two 
objects  in  question  are  connected,  that  they  will  always  go 
together.  After  the  constant  conjunction  of  two  objects,  h^at 
and  flame,  weight  and  solidity,  we  are  determined  by  custom 
to  expect  the  one  from  the  appearance  of  the  other.  Our  expe- 


350  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

/rience  of  the  constant  conjunction  of  objects,  in  other  words, 
I  produces  a  belief  in  their  connection.  This  belief  is  an  operation 
of  the  soul,  a  species  of  natural  instinct,  as  unavoidable  as  to 
feel  the  passion  of  love  when  we  receive  benefits.  We  cannot 
define  belief  except  as  a  feeling  of  which  every  one  knows  the 
meaning,  because  every  man  is  conscious  of  it.  (In  the  Treatise 
Hume  is  still  uncertain  as  to  the  psychology  of  this  belief.  He 
identifies  it  with  the  imagination,  but  the  matter  seems  obscure 
and  unsatisfactory  to  him.)  Nature,  therefore,  has  not  trusted 
the  operation  of  the  mind  by  which  we  infer  like  effects  from 
like  causes,  and  vice  versa,  to  the  fallacious  deductions  of  rea- 
son, but  has  secured  it  by  an  instinct  or  mechanical  tendency. 

A  cause  may,  therefore,  be  defined  as  an  object  followed  by 
another  and  whose  appearance  always  conveys  the  thought  of 
that  other.  This  definition,  however,  does  not  satisfy  some  meta- 
physicians, they  miss  something  in  it.  For  them  a  cause  is 
something  productive  of  another  thing ;  there  is  something  in 
the  cause  by  which  it  is  enabled  to  produce  the  effect,  a  secret 
power,  force,  or  energy.  There  is  a  tie  that  binds  the  cause  to 
the  effect,  a  necessary  connection  between  cause  and  effect,  such 
that  if  we  knew  the  power,  we  could  foresee  the  effect  even 
without  experience,  and  might,  at  first,  pronounce  with  certainty 
concerning  it,  by  the  mere  dint  of  thought  and  reasoning.  If 
this  were  true,  we  could  deduce  the  effect  from  the  cause;  a 
knowledge  of  the  cause  would  necessarily  carry  with  it  a  knowl* 
edge  of  the  effect :  we  should  know  at  once,  without  any  experi- 
ence, how  an  object  would  act. 

But  what  do  these  terms  power,  force,  energy,  necessary  con- 
nection mean,  and  what  right  have  we  to  employ  them?  To 
answer  this  question,  we  must  analyze  our  idea  of  power  or  nec- 
essary connection.  We  cannot  think  of  anything  which  we  have 
not  antecedently  felt  either  by  our  external  or  internal  senses. 
Now  what  is  the  impression  on  which  this  idea  of  power  depends : 
how  do  we  get  it?  When  we  look  at  external  objects  and  con- 
sider the  operation  of  causes,  we  never  discover  any  power  or 
necessary  connection,  any  quality  which  binds  the  effect  to  the 
cause  and  renders  the  one  an  infallible  consequence  of  the  other, 
We  only  find  that  the  one  does  actually  follow  the  other.  The 
impulse  of  one  billiard  ball  is  attended  with  motion  in  the  sec- 


DAVID  HUME  851 

ond;  this  is  all  that  appears  to  the  outward  senses.  From  the 
first  appearance  of  an  object  we  can  never  conjecture  what  its 
effect  will  be.  The  force  in  the  universe  which  actuates  the 
whole  machine  is  entirely  concealed  from  us.  We  know  that 
heat  is  a  constant  attendant  upon  flame,  but  what  is  the  con- 
nection between  them  we  cannot  imagine.  Nor  do  we  get  the 
idea  of  power  from  reflection  on  the  operation  of  our  own  minds ; 
it  is  not  copied  from  any  internal  impression  or  experience. 
But,  it  may  be  said,  are  we  not,  every  moment,  conscious  of 
internal  power,  do  we  not  feel  that  by  simple  command  of  our 
will  we  can  move  the  organs  of  the  body  or  direct  the  faculties 
of  the  mind?  An  act  of  volition  produces  motion  in  our  limbs 
or  raises  a  new  idea  in  our  imagination.  This  influence  of  the 
will  we  know  by  consciousness.  Hence  we  acquire  the  idea  of 
power  or  energy;  and  we  are  certain  that  we  ourselves  and  all 
other  intelligent  beings  are  possessed  of  power. 

Let  us  examine  this  view,  says  Hume.  It  is  true,  we  do  influ- 
ence the  organs  of  the  body  by  volition.  But  we  are  not  con- 
scious of  the  means  by  which  this  is  effected;  we  are  never, 
and  never  can  be,  directly  conscious  of  the  energy  by  which 
the  will  does  this.  The  power  is  utterly  concealed  from  us 
here,  as  in  case  of  natural  events.  The  motion  of  the  body 
follows  upon  the  command  of  the  will,  that  is  all  experience  tells 
us;  how  it  is  done  is  a  mystery.  Experience  does  not  tell  us 
the  secret  connection  which  binds  the  will  and  its  act  together 
and  renders  them  inseparable.  The  whole  relation  between  soul 
and  body  is  mysterious;  we  do  not  know  the  connection  of  the 
cause  with  its  effect  here,  we  can  never  see  the  influence  of  mind 
on  body  from  any  apparent  power  or  energy  in  the  cause,  which 
connects  it  with  the  effect  and  renders  the  one  an  infallible 
consequence  of  the  other.  It  is  equally  impossible  to  know  how 
our  will  controls  our  thinking,  the  power  by  which  the  soul 
produces  ideas.  We  do  not  discover  any  such  power;  all  we 
know  is  that  the  will  commanded  an  idea  and  the  event 
followed. 

To  sum  up :  We  can  never  discover  any  power  at  all ;  all 
we  see  is  one  event  following  another.  We  cannot  observe  or 
conceive  the  tie  that  binds  together  the  motion  and  the  volition, 
or  energy,  by  which  the  mind  produces  this  effect.  The  same 


352  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

is  true  of  natural  events.  One  event  follows  another ;  we  never 
can  observe  a  tie  between  them.  They  seem  conjoined  but 
never  connected.  We  never  experience  such  a  tie,  or  power,  or 
connection ;  we  receive  no  impression  of  it,  hence  we  can  have 
no  idea  of  it.  Employed  as  they  are,  these  words  seem  to  be 
without  a  meaning.  But  they  have  a  meaning  when  used  in 
the  proper  sense :  when  we  say  an  object  is  connected  with  an- 
other, we  mean  that  they  have  acquired  a  connection  in  our 
thought.  As  was  said  before,  the  mind  is  carried  by  habit,  upon 
the  appearance  of  one  event,  to  expect  its  usual  attendant  and 
to  believe  that  it  will  exist.  This  connection,  therefore,  which 
we  feel  in  the  mind,  this  customary  transition  of  the  imagina- 
tion from  one  object  to  its  usual  attendant,  is  the  sentiment  or 
impression  from  which  we  form  the  idea  of  power  or  necessary 
connection. 

According  to  Hume,  then,  the  objects  are  not  necessarily 
connected,  but  the  ideas  areconnected  in  our  mind  by  association. 
The  "association  is  the  result  of  repetition,  of  custom  or  habit. 
The  ideas  have  gone  together  so  often  that  when  one  appears, 
it  suggests  the  other.  We  have,  here .not  logical  but  psychological 
necessity,  and  this  psychological  necessity  depends  on  experi- 
ence. The  process  is  the  same  in  animals,  in  children,  among  the 
generality  of  men  and  philosophers. 

Another  notion  formed  by  philosophers  is  that  of  substance. 
We  cannot  forbear  looking  at  colors,  sounds,  tastes,  figures,  and 
other  properties  of  bodies  as  existences  which  cannot  subsist 
apart,  but  require  a  subject  of  inhesion  to  sustain  and  support 
them.  The  imagination  feigns  something  unknown  and  invisible 
which  it  supposes  to  continue  the  same  under  all  variation.  This 
unknown  something  is  the  substance ;  its  qualities  are  called 
accidents.  Philosophers  also  suppose  occult  qualities  and  sub- 
stantial forms.  But  all  these  are  fictions,  they  are  like  specters 
in  the  dark.  We  have  no  perfect  idea  of  anything  but  a  percep- 
tion. A  substance  is  entirely  different  from  a  perception.  We 
have,  therefore,  no  idea  of  a  substance".  Every  quality,  being 
a  distinct  thing  from  another,  may  be  conceived  to  exist  apart, 
and  may  exist  apart,  not  only  from  every  other  quality  but 
from  that  unintelligible  chimera  of  a  substance. 

All  our  ideas  or*  thoughts,  then,  are  copies  of  impressions,  all 


DAVID  HUME  353 

knowledge  is  derived  from  experience.  Now  let  us  ask  what  is 
the  validity  of  such  knowledge,  what  is  the  nature  of  its  evi- 
dence? All  the  objects  of  human  reason  may  be 


divided  into  two  kinds  :  relations  of  ideas  and  mat- 


ters  of  fact.  Of  the  first  kind  are  the  sciences  of 
geometry,  algebra,  and  arithmetic,  and,  in  short,  every  affirma- 
tion which  is  either  intuitively  or  demonstratively  certain.  That 
the  square  of  the  hypothenuse  is  equal  to  the  square  of  the 
other  two  sides  is  a  proposition  which  expresses  a  relation  be- 
tween these  figures.  That  three  times  five  is  equal  to  half  of 
thirty  expresses  a  relation  between  these  numbers.  Proposi- 
tions of  this  kind  are  discoverable  by  the  mere  operation  of 
thought,  without  dependence  on  what  is  anywhere  existent  in 
the  universe.  Even  if  there  had  never  been  a  circle  or  a  tri- 
angle in  nature,  the  truths  demonstrated  by  Euclid  would  for- 
ever retain  their  certainty  and  self-evidence. 

All  evidence  of  matters  of  fact  which  lies  beyond  the  testi- 
mony of  sense  or  memory  is  derived  entirely  from  the  relation 
of  cause  and  effect.  Our  knowledge  of  causes  and  effects  is 
derived  from  experience,  as  we  saw:  custom  leads  us  to  infer 
that  objects  which  our  experience  tells  us  are  frequently  con- 
joined, will  always  be,  but  custom  is  an  instinct  and  instinct 
may  be  fallacious.  Our  evidence  of  the  truth  of  matters  of  fact 
is  not  like  the  evidence  we  have  in  mathematics.  The  contrary 
ofjvery  matter  of  fact  is  still  possible,  because  it  can  never 
T"  contradiction.  That  the  sun  will  not  rise  to-morrow 


is  no  less  intelligible  a  proposition,  and  implies  no  more  con- 
tradiction, than  that  it  will  rise.  Here  we  are  dealing  not  with 
certain,  self-evident  knowledge,  but  with  probability. 

Of  substances  we  have  no  idea  whatever,~**annhey  have  no 
place  in  knowledge.  But,  it  may  be  asked,  why  trust  imagina- 
tion in  the  case  of  causes  and  not  in  the  case  of  substance? 
Hume's  answer  is  that  we  must  distinguish  between  principles 
which  are  permanent,  irresistible,  and  universal,  such  as  is  the 
customary  transition  from  causes  to  effects,  and  the  principles 
which  are  changeable,  weak,  and  irregular,  such  as  substance, 
substantial  forms,  accidents,  occult  qualities.  The  former  are 
the  foundation  of  all  our  thought  and  action,  so  that,  upon  thfir 
removal,  human  r.ature  must  inevitably  perish  and  go  to  ruin. 


i 


354,  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  latter  are  neither  unavoidable  to  mankind  nor  necessary 
and  useful  in  the  conduct  of  life. 

We  have  no  absolute  or  self-evident  or  certain  knowledge, 
therefore,  of  matters  of  fact ;  our  knowledge  never  reaches  abso- 
lute certainty.  We  base  our  conclusions  on  experience,  we  be- 
lieve the  future  will  be  like  the  past,  but  we  have  no  absolute 
assurance  that  things  will  not  change.  Life,  however,  would  be 
impossible  unless  we  acted  on  the  belief  that  nature  is  regular 
and  uniform;  no  practical  good  can  come  of  our  skepticism; 
practice  is  the  best  cure  for  all  skeptical  reflections. 

The  senses,  however,  alone  are  not  implicitly  to  be  depended 
on;  we  must  correct  their  evidence  by  reason.  We  trust  our 
senses  by  a  natural  instinct.  We  always  suppose 
Knowledge  an  external  universe  without  any  reasoning  and 
ternal  World  a^most  before  the  use  of  reason.  We  assume  it 
to  exist  even  if  every  sensible  creature  were  an- 
nihilated. The  slightest  philosophy,  however,  destroys  the 
opinion  of  all  men.  Nothing  can  be  present  to  the  mind  but 
an  image  or  perception.  We  cannot  prove  that  perceptions  are 
caused  by  external  objects  entirely  different  from  them,  though 
resembling  them  (if  possible).  Experience  is  silent  here,  for 
all  we  have  before  the  mind  is  perceptions.  We  observe  a  rela- 
tion of  cause  and  effect  between  two  perceptions,  but  can  never 
observe  it  between  perceptions  and  objects,  hence  we  cannot 
conclude  from  perceptions  to  objects  as  their  causes.  If  we 
deprive  matter  of  primary  qualities  as  well  as  of  secondary 
qualities,  we  leave  only  a  certain  unknown,  inexplicable  some- 
thing as  the  cause  of  our  impressions,  a  notion  so  imperfect  that 
no  skeptic  will  think  it  worth  while  to  contend  against  it.  We 
do  not  know  whether  there  are  things-in-themselves  or  not.  The 
objects  of  all  our  knowledge  are  ideas  of  our  own  impressions. 
We  cannot  prove  that  these  are  caused  by  external  objects  or 
an  unknown  substance  or  by  ourselves  or  by  God.  Sensations 
arise  in  the  soul  from  unknown  causes.  All  we  can  do,  then, 
is  to  limit  ourselves  to  the  world  of  experience,  to  our  impres- 
sions and  ideas.  We  can  compare  our  ideas,  note  their  relations, 
and  reason  about  the  relations,  thus  attaining  a  kind  of  demon- 
strative knowledge.  We  can  also  observe  the  order  of  our  sen- 
sations; through  habit  or  custom  we  come  to  regard  one  object 


DAVID  HUME  355 

as  connected  with  another  in  a  relation  which  we  call  cause  and 
effect. 

We  must  limit  our  inquiries  to  such  subjects  as  are  best 
adapted  to  the  narrow  capacities  of  the  human  understanding. 
Philosophical  decisions  are  nothing  but  the  reflections  of  com- 
mon life  methodized  and  corrected.  Philosophers  will  never  be* 
tempted  to  go  beyond  common  life,  so  long  as  they  consider 
the  imperfection  of  those  faculties  which  they  employ,  their 
narrow  reach,  and  their  inaccurate  operations.  We  can  never 
form  any  satisfactory  conclusions  with  regard  to  the  origin  of 
worlds  and  the  situation  of  nature,  from  and  to  eternity. 

Metaphysics,  therefore,  in  the  sense  of  knowledge  of  the  ulti- 
mate origin  and  nature  of  the  universe  is  impossible :  rational 
cosmology  is  out  of  the  question.  Nor  can  we 
have  a  rational  psychology,  a  science  of  the  es- 
sence  of  the  soul ;  we  know  nothing  of  an  immate- 
rial, indivisible,  imperishable  soul-substance.  The  idea  of  sub- 
stance is  meaningless,  whether  applied  to  matter  or  to  mind. 
The  doctrine  of  the  simplicity  and  indivisibility  of  a  thinking 
substance  is  a  true  atheism ;  if  we  accept  it,  Hume  declares,  we 
must  embrace  Spinozism.  Nor  have  we,  as  some  philosophers 
hold,  any  idea  of  a  simple  and  identical  self.  There  is  no  such 
simple  and  continued  principle  in  me.  *  When  I  enter  inti- 
mately upon  what  I  call  myself,  I  always  stumble  on  some  par- 
ticular perception  or  other,  of  heat  or  cold,  light  or  shade,  love 
or  hatred,  pain  or  pleasure.  I  never  catch  myself,  at  any  time, 
without  a  perception,  and  never  can  observe  anything  but  the 
perception. ' '  The  mind  is  a  bundle  or  collection  of  different 
perceptions  which  succeed  one  another  with  an  inconceivable 
rapidity,  and  are  in  a  perpetual  flux  and  movement.  The  mind 
is  a  kind  of  theater  where  several  perceptions  successively  make 
their  appearance,  pass,  repass,  glide  away,  and  mingle  in  an 
infinite  variety  of  postures  and  situations.  There  is  properly 
no  simplicity  in  it  at  one  time,  nor  identity  at  different  times. 
The  comparison  of  the  theater  must  not  mislead  us,  however,  we 
are  told.  They  are  successive  perceptions  only  that  constitute 
the  mind ;  nor  have  we  the  most  distant  notion  of  the'  place  where 
these  scenes  are  represented,  or  of  the  materials  of  which  it  is 
composed.  Every  distinct  perception  is  a  distinct  existence,  and 


356  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

is  different  and  distinguishable  and  separable  from  every  other 
perception  either  contemporary  or  successive.  Is  this  relation 
of  identity  something  that  really  binds  our  several  perceptions 
together  or  only  associates  their  ideas  in  the  imagination?  In 
pronouncing  concerning  the  identity  of  a  person,  do  we  observe 
some  real  bonds  among  his  perceptions  or  only  feel  one  among 
the  ideas  we  form  of  them?  The  understanding  never  observes 
any  real  connection  among  objects ;  even  the  union  of  cause  and 
effect  resolves  itself  into  a  customary  association  of  ideas.  Hence, 
identity  is  nothing  really  belonging  to  these  different  perceptions 
and  uniting  them  together;  but  is  merely  a  quality  which  we 
attribute  to  them  because  of  the  union  of  their  ideas  in  the 
imagination,  when  we  reflect  on  them.  Mind  is  nothing  but  a 
heap  or  collection  of  different  perceptions  united  together  by 
certain  relations,  and  supposed,  though  falsely,  to  be  endowed 
with  a  perfect  simplicity  and  identity. 

Tlie  idea  of  necessity  and  causation  arises  entirely  from  the 
uniformity  observable  in  the  operations  of  nature.    Where  simi- 
lar objects  are  constantly  conjoined  together,  the 
an      mind  is  determined  by  custom  to  infer  the  one 


from  the  appearance  of  the  other.  Beyond  the 
constant  conjunction  of  similar  objects  and  the  consequent  in- 
ference from  one  to  the  other,  we  have  no  notion  of  any  necessity 
or  connection.  This  idea  of  necessity  is  applied  also  to  the 
voluntary  actions  of  men.  All  mankind  have  always  agreed  on 
that;  the  disputes  about  liberty  and  necessity  are  due  to  mis- 
understandings which  a  few  intelligible  definitions  would  have 
ended.  There  is  great  uniformity  in  the  actions  of  men;  man- 
kind is  much  the  same  in  all  times  and  places.  The  conjunc- 
tion between  motives  and  voluntary  actions  is  as  regular  and 
uniform  as  that  between  cause  and  effect  in  any  part  of  nature, 
and  has  been  universally  acknowledged  among  mankind.  It 
seems  almost  impossible  to  engage  either  in  science  or  action  of 
any  kind  without  acknowledging  the  doctrine  of  necessity  and 
this  inference  from  motives  to  voluntary  actions,  from  characters 
to  conduct.  But  why  do  men  oppose  this  doctrine  in  words  ?  It 
is  because  men  have  the  false  notion  of  necessity.  They  belieye 
they  perceive  something  like  a  necessary  connection  between 
cause  and  effect  in  nature,  while  they  feel  no  such  connection 


DAVID  HUME  357 

between  the  motive  and  the  action  when  they  reflect  on  the 
operations  of  their  own  minds.  Necessity,  however,  is  not  con- 
straint, but  uniformity  of  action,  constant  conjunction  between 
motive  and  effect.  Liberty  is  a  power  of  acting  or  not  acting 
according  to  the  determinations  of  the  will ;  that  is,  if  we  choose 
to  remain  at  rest,  we  may,  if  we  choose  to  move,  we  also  may. 
A  man  may  refuse  to  give  the  name  necessity  to  this  property 
of  human  actions,  but  so  long  as  the  meaning  is  understood  the 
word  can  do  no  harm.  The  doctrine  is  innocent. 

The  doctrines  of  liberty  and  necessity,  thus  explained,  are  not 
only  consistent  with  morality,  but  absolutely  essential  to  its 
support.  Necessity  is  the  constant  conjunction  of  like  objects, 
or  necessity  is  the  inference  of  the  understanding  from  one 
object  to  the  other.  We  draw  inferences  from  human  actions; 
our  inferences  are  based  on  the  experienced  union  of  like  actions 
with  like  motives.  If  actions  did  not  proceed  from  some  cause 
in  the  character  and  disposition  of  the  person  who  performed 
them,  the  person  would  not  be  answerable  for  them.  But  where 
liberty  is  wanting,  human  actions  are  not  susceptible  of  any 
moral  qualities,  nor  can  they  be  objects  of  approbation  or  dis- 
like. To  be  called  moral,  acts  must  spring  from  the  internal 
character,  passions,  and  affections  of  the  person;  in  that  sense 
they  are  free;  where  they  are  derived  altogether  from  external 
objects,  they  can  give  rise  neither  to  praise  nor  blame :  they  are 
not  free. 

We  cannot  demonstrate  the  independent  existence  of  a  world, 
though  we  continue  to  believe  in  it:  rational  cosmology  is  im- 
possible. Nor  can  we  demonstrate  the  existence  of 
a  soul-substance  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul: 
rational  psychology  is  impossible.  Finally,  we  cannot  demon- 
strate anything  concerning  the  nature  of  God,  his  attributes,  his 
decrees,  his  plan  of  providence.  Human  reason  is  too  weak, 
blind,  and  limited  in  its  scope  to  solve  such  problems  as  these: 
rational  theology  is  impossible.  When  the  coherence  of  the  parts 
of  a  stone  or  even  that  composition  of  parts  which  renders  it 
extended;  when  these  familiar  objects  are  so  inexplicable  and 
contain  circumstances  so  repugnant  and  contradictory;  with 
what  assurance  can  we  decide  concerning  the  origin  of  worlds 
or  trace  their  history  from  eternity  to  eternity?  We  are  far 


\ 

358      ±  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

beyond  the  reach  of  our  faculties  when  we  carry  our  specula- 
tions into  two  eternities,  before  and  after  the  present  state  of 
things:  into  the  creation  and  formation  of  the  universe,  the 
existence  and  properties  of  spirits,  the  powers  and  operations 
of  one  universal  spirit  existing 'without  beginning  and  without 
end,  omnipotent,  omniscierit,  immutable,  infinite,  and  in- 
comprehensible^ / 

The  question  is  not  concerning  the  being  but  the  nature  of  God. 
No  trirth.  isjso  certaua  as  the  being  of  God;  it  is  the  ground  of 
all  niiTJhopQS;  the  a)afgpst  foundation  of  morality,  the  firmest  sup- 
port^ society.  Nothing  exists  without  a  cause,  and  the  original 
catfse  of  this  umverseV whatever  it  be)  we  call  God,  and  piously 
ascribe  to  him/every  snecies  of  perfection.  But  we  cannot  com- 
prehend the /attributes  of  this  divine  being  nor  suppose  that  his 
perfection^have  any  analogy  or  likeness  to  the  perfections  of 
a  human' creature.  Hume  directs  his  attacks  particularly  against 
the  argument  from  design,  the  so-called  teleological  proof,  which 
attempts  to  infer  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God  from  the 
ord^r,  beauty,  apd  goodness  of  the  universe^  Unless  the  cases 
be  iexactly  similar,  we  cannot  repose  perfect  confidence  in  rea- 
soning by  analogy  here.  There  is  a  wide  difference  between  the 
universe  and  houses,  ships,  furniture,  and  machines,  and  we  are 
not  justified  in  inferring  similar  causes  from  a  slight  similarity 
in  effects.  Intelligence,  it  is  true,  is  an  active  cause  by  which 
some  particular  parts  of  nature,  we  find,  produce  alterations  in 
other  parts.  But  thought,  design,  intelligence,  such  as  we  dis- 
cover in  men  and  other  animals,  is  no  more  than  one  of  the 
springs  and  principles  of  the  universe,  as  well  as  heat  or  cold, 
attraction  or  repulsion,  and  a  hundred  others  which  fall  under 
daily  observation.  We  cannot  conclude  with  propriety  from  the 
part  to  the  whole.  But  even  if  we  could,  what  peculiar  privi- 
lege has  the  little  agitation  in  the  brain  which  we  call  thought, 
that  we  must  thus  make  it  the  model  of  the  whole  universe? 
Can  we  imagine  that  nature  incessantly  copies  herself  through- 
out so  immense  a  universe  ?  If  we  see  a  house,  we  conclude  with 
the  greatest  certainty  that  it  had  an  architect  or  builder, — 
because  this  is  precisely  that  species  of  effect  which  we  have 
experienced  from  that  species  of  cause.  But  the  universe  bears 
no  such  resemblance  to  a  house  that  we  can  with  the  same  cer- 


DAVID  HUME  359 

tainty  infer  a  similar  cause,  or  that  the  analogy  is  here  entire 
and  perfect.  The  dissimilitude  is  so  striking  that  the  utmost 
you  can  here  pretend  to  is  a  guess,  a  conjecture,  a  presumption 
concerning  a  similar  cause. 

We  cannot  represent  the  Deity  as  similar  to  a  human  mind: 
to  do  so  would  be  to  fall  into  anthropomorphism.  The  human 
,  mind  is  in  constant  change ;  this  is  not  compatible  with  the 
perfect  immutability  and  simplicity  ascribed  to  the  Deity.  Be- 
sides, why  not  stop  at  the  material  world  ?  To  say  the  different 
ideas  which  compose  the  reason  of  the  Supreme  Being  fall  into 
order,  of  themselves,  by  their  own  nature,  has  no  more  meaning 
than  to  say  that  the  parts  of  the  material  world  fall  into  order, 
of  themselves,  and  by  their  own  nature.  We  have  experience 
of  matter  doing  this,  and  we  have  experience  of  mind  do- 
ing it. 

The  attempt  to  infer  the  nature  of  God  from  the  nature  of 
the  universe  must  end  in  disaster.  By  this  anthropomorphic 
method  of  reasoning,  we  cannot  ascribe  infinity  to  the  divine 
Being,  because  the  effect  is  not  infinite ;  nor  perfection,  because 
the  universe  is  not  perfect.  Even  if  it  were  a  perfect  produc- 
tion, it  would  still  remain  uncertain  whether  all  the  excellencies 
of  the  work  can  justly  be  ascribed  to  the  workman.  Many  worlds 
might  have  been  botched  and  bungled,  throughout  an  eternity, 
ere  this  system  was  struck  out,  much  labor  lost,  many  fruitless 
trials  made,  and  a  slow  but  continued  improvement  carried  on 
during  infinite  ages  in  the  art  of  world-making.  Besides,  there 
is  no  proof,  on  this  argument,  of  the  unity  of  the  Deity;  per- 
haps many  gods  united  in  making  a  world.  Again,  men  are  mor- 
tal and  renew  their  species  by  generation,  hence  if  we  reason 
by  analogy,  why,  then,  must  we  exclude  this  universal  circum- 
stance from  these  deities?  And  why  not  complete  our  anthropo- 
morphism  and  ascribe  bodies  to  the  Deity  or  deities  ? 

A  more  probable  hypothesis  than  the  anthropomorphic  theory, 
according  to  Hume,  is  that  which  infers  that  the  world  is  an 
animal  and  the  Deity  the  soul  of  the  world,  actuating  it  and 
actuated  by  it.  The  world  itself  plainly  resembles  more  an  ani- 
mal or  a  vegetable  than  it  does  a  watch  or  a  knitting-loom.  Its 
cause,  therefore,  it  is  more  probable,  resembles  the  cause  of  the 
former.  The  cause  of  the  former  is  generation  or  vegetation. 


360  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  cause  of  the  world,  consequently,  we  may  infer  to  be  some- 
thing similar  to  generation  or  vegetation. 

It  is  true,  these  are  world-fancies/^we  have  no  data  to  estab- 
lish any  system  of  cosmogony.  Our  experience  is  limited  and 
imperfect,  and  can  afford  no  possible  conjecture  concerning  the 
whole  of  things.  But  the  hypothesis  which  compares  the  world 
to  an  animal  is  as  probable  as  the  one  which  compares  it  with 
a  human  contrivance ;  indeed,  the  analogy  is  more  striking  in  the 
former  case  than  in  the  latter. 

Hume  also  points  out  that  we  cannot  conclude  from  the  uni- 
verse to  a  being  possessing  moral  attributes  like  those  of  men. 
The  purpose  and  intention  of  nature  seems  to  be  the  preserva- 
tion and  propagation  of  the  species,  and  not  their  happiness. 
Misery  exceeds  happiness  in  the  world.  The  fact  of  pain  in 
the  world  would  prove  that  God  is  either  not  benevolent  or  not 
almighty.  Physical  and  moral  evil  do  not  allow  us  to  infer  a 
good  God.  It  may  be  said,  human  reason  is  too  weak  to  under- 
stand the  purpose  of  the  universe ;  but  this  does  not  allow  us 
to  infer  anything  of  God's  goodness;  a  man  must  infer  from 
what  he  knows,  not  from  what  he  is  ignorant  of. 

We  cannot  demonstrate  a  priori  that  the  Deity  is  a  necessarily 
existent  being;  there  is  no  being  whose  non-existence  implies  a 
contradiction.  We  cannot  prove  his  existence  as  a  necessary 
consequence  of  his  nature,  because  we  do  not  know  what  that 
nature  is.  The  material  universe  may,  for  all  we  know,  have 
qualities  which  make  its  non-existence  inconceivable. 

As  to  the  origin  of  religion,  Hume  holds  that  the  belief  in 
God  is  not  the  result  of  speculation,  curiosity,  or  the  pure  love 
of  truth,  but  rests  on  the  anxious  concern  for  happiness,  the 
dread  of  future  misery,  the  terror  of  death,  the  thirst  for  re- 
venge, the  appetite  for  food  and  other  necessaries.  Polytheism 
or  idolatry,  and  not  theism,  must  have  been  the  first  and  most 
ancient  religions. 

In  spite  of  these  skeptical  reflections,  Hume  declares  that  it 
hardly  seems  possible  that  any  one  of  good  understanding  should 
reject  the  idea  of  God  when  once  it  is  suggested  to  him.  A 
purpose,  an  intention,  a  design,  is  evident  in  everything,  and 
when  our  comprehension  is  so  far  enlarged  as  to  contemplate 
the  first  rise  of  this  visible  system,  we  must  adopt,  with  the 


DAVID  HUME  361 

strongest  conviction,  the  idea  of  some  intelligent  cause  or  author. 
The  universal  propensity  to  believe  in  invisible,  intelligent  power, 
if  not  an  original  instinct,  being  at  least  a  general  attendant  of 
human  nature,  may  be  considered  as  a  kind  of  mark  or  stamp 
which  the  divine  Workman  has  set  upon  his  work.  How  seriously 
these  remarks  are  to  be  taken  in  view  of  what  has  been  said  be- 
fore, the  reader  is  left  to  decide  for  himself. 

Theology  is  not  a  demonstrable  science,  we  cannot  prove  the 
existence  or  the  attributes  of  God.  The  teleological  argument  is 
imperfect;  anthropomorphism,  prejudice.  Hume 
inclines  to  an  organic  conception  of  the  universe,  teji^t  "alism 
in  this  respect  opposing  the  eighteenth-century 
ideal.  His  view  of  the  origin  of  religion  is  also  out  of  harmony 
with  the  eighteenth-century  notions,  according  to  which  reli- 
gion owes  its  origin  either  to  the  rational  faculties  of  primitive 
men  or  is  an  invention  of  crafty  priests.  Hume  rejects  all  such 
theories:  the  belief  in  God  is  not  the  result  of  speculative  rea- 
soning, but  is  based  on  man's  emotional  and  impulsive  nature. 
The  intellectualistic  or  rationalistic  explanation  is  set  aside  for 
the  voluntaristic  conception:  religion  is  rooted  in  the  will. 
Moreover,  religions  are  not  made,  but  grow;  theism  has  devel- 
oped from  polytheism.  The  same  views  are  introduced  by  Hume 
into  his  theory  of  the  State ;  he  rejects  both  the  theological  con- 
ceptions and  the  contract  theory  which  found  such  favor  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  No  compact  or  agreement  was  expressly 
formed  for  general  submission;  that  is  an  idea  far  beyond  the 
comprehension  of  savages.  Each  exertion  of  authority  in  the 
chieftain  must  have  been  particular,  and  called  forth  by  the 
present  exigencies  of  the  case ;  the  sensible  utility  resulting  from 
his  interposition  made  these  exertions  become  daily  more  fre- 
quent, and  their  frequency  gradually  produced  an  habitual,  and, 
if  you  please  to  call  it  so,  a  voluntary,  and  therefore  precarious, 
acquiescence  in  the  people.  The  people,  if  we  are  to  trace 
government  to  its  first  origin  in  the  woods  and  deserts,  are  the 
source  of  all  power  and  jurisdiction,  and  voluntarily,  for  the 
sake  of  peace  and  order,  abandoned  their  native  liberty,  and 
received  laws  from  their  equals  and  companions.  The  ration- 
alistic conception  here  gives  way  to  the  historical  or  genetic 
point  of  view. 


362  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

52.   RATIONALISTIC  REACTION  IN  ENGLAND 

Although  empiricism  remained  the  dominant  note  in  British 
thought  from  the  days  of  Roger  Bacon  and  William  of  Occam 
down  to  very  recent  times,  the  opposition  to  this 
scn°°l  never  entirely  disappeared.  The  rationalis- 
tic traditions  of  scholasticism  were  kept  alive  at  the 
universities  and  among  theologians,  and  spiritualistic  systems 
of  philosophy  arose  as  a  reaction  against  the  radical  specula- 
tions of  Hobbes,  Locke,  and  Hume.  Ralph  Cudworth  (1617- 
1688),  a  professor  at  Cambridge,  opposes  the  atheistic  and  ma- 
terialistic teachings  of  Hobbes  from  the  standpoint  of  Chris- 
tian Platonism  in  his  True  Intellectual  System  of  the  Universe, 
1678.  He  accepts  Descartes 's  rationalism,  but  rejects  all  me- 
chanical explanation  of  nature  as  leading  to  atheism.  All  men 
have  the  same  fundamental  notions  or  categories,  and  what  is 
clearly  and  distinctly  perceived  is  true.  These  a  priori  cate- 
gories are  the  constant  reflections  of  the  universal  reason,  of 
God's  mind,  and  likewise  form  the  nature  or  essence  of  things. 
Among  such  innate  truths  are  the  moral  laws,  which  are  as  bind- 
ing on  God  as  the  axioms  of  mathematics.  Cudworth 's  ethical 
philosophy  is  given  in  his  posthumous  work,  Treatise  concerning 
Eternal  and  Immutable  Morality,  1731,  and  A  Treatise  of  Free 
Will,  1838. 

Other  members  of  the  Cambridge  school  of  Platonists  and  opponents 
of  English  empiricism  are:  Henry  More  (1614-1687;  Enchiridion 
metaphysicum,  Enchiridion  ethicum,  1668) ;  Theophilus  Gale  (1628- 
1677;  Philosophia  universalis,  1676);  and  John  Norris  (1657-1711; 
Ln  Essay  towards  the  Theory  of  the  Ideal  or  Intelligible  World,  1701. 
1704). 

See  the  works  on  English  philosophy  mentioned  on  pp.  254,  f . ;  also 
Tulloch,  Rational  Theology,  etc.,  vol.  II;  Martineau,  Types  of  Ethical 
Theory,  vol.  II,  Book  II ;  Jodl,  Geschichte  der  Ethik;  Scott,  Introduc- 
tion to  Cudworth's  Treatise;  Huebsch,  Cudworth;  Mackinnon,  Philos- 
ophy of  John  Norris. 

The  rationalistic  conception  that  there  is  universal  and  nec- 
essary truth,  both  speculative  and  practical,  not  derived  from 
experience,  continues  in  the  English  thought  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  Samuel  Clarke  (1675-1729;  Discourse  concerning  th? 
Unalterable  Obligations  of  Natural  Religion,  1708)  teaches  that 


RATIONALISTIC  REACTION  IN  ENGLAND         363 

there  are  eternal  and  necessary  differences  and  relations  of 
things,  and  that  divine  and  human  reason  perceives  these  as 
they  are :  no  one  can  refuse  to  assent  either  to  a  correct  mathe- 
matical proof  or  to  moral  truth.  William  Wollaston  (1659- 
1724;  The  Religion  of  Nature  Delineated,  1722)  and  Kichard 
Price  (1723-1791;  Review  of  the  Principal  Questions  in  Morals, 
1758,  and  Letters  on  Materialism  and  Philosophical  Necessity, 
1778)  agree  with  this  view,  which  is  later  taken  up  by  the  Scot- 
tish philosophy  of  Reid  and  his  school. 

The  Scottish  school,  led  by  Thomas  Reid  (1710-1796),  repre- 
sents a  reaction  against  the  idealism  of  Berkeley  and  the  skep- 
ticism of  Hume.  Empiricism  had  ended  in  the  gcottish 
lenial  of  the  very  things  which  the  common-sense  Common- 
3f  mankind  accepts  as  the  most  certain  facts  of  Sense  School 
knowledge, — the  existence  of  an  external  world  and  the  exist- 
ence of  an  immortal  soul, — indeed,  it  had  called  in  question  the 
possibility  of  truth  itself.  If  the  notions  of  substance  and  cau- 
sality are  mere  illusions,  and  objects  mere  ideas  in  our  heads, 
a  substantial  soul  is  impossible,  the  existence  of  God  undemon- 
strable,  and  philosophy  breaks  down.  Philosophy  cannot  con- 
tradict the  common  consciousness  of  mankind.  Sensation  car- 
ries with  it  an  immediate  belief  in  the  reality  of  the  object, 
and  this  immediate  certainty  supplies  us  with  a  criterion  of 
truth.  All  proof  rests  on  such  direct  knowledge,  on  self-evident, 
not  further  provable  principles.  The  knowledge  of  these  prin- 
ciples and  of  the  criterion  of  truth  is  common-sense :  such  prin- 
ciples, which  we  discover  by  observation,  are  either  first  prin- 
ciples of  necessary  truths  or  first  principles  of  contingent  truths, 
or  truths  expressing  matters  of  fact.  As  belonging  to  the 
former  class,  Reid  mentions:  the  axioms  of  logic  and  mathe- 
matics, the  principles  of  grammar,  taste,  morals,  and  meta- 
physical principles;  among  the  latter  he  cites:  the  existence  of 
every  thing  of  which  I  am  conscious;  the  thoughts  of  which  I 
am  conscious  are  the  thoughts  of  a  being  which  I  call  myself, 
my  mind,  my  person ;  our  own  personal  identity  and  continued 
existence;  things  really  exist  which  we  distinctly  perceive  by 
our  senses,  and  are  what  we  perceive  them  to  be ;  we  have  some 
degree  of  power  over  our  actions  and  the  determinations  of  our 
will;  the  natural  faculties  by  which  we  distinguish  truth  from 


364,  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

error  are  not  fallacious;  there* is  life  and  intelligence  in  our 
fellow-men ;  what  is  to  be,  will  probably  be  like  to  what  has  been 
in  similar  circumstances. 

Other  members  of  the  Scotch  school  are:  James  Beattie  (1735-1803), 
James  Oswald  (+1793),  and  Dugald  Stewart  (1753-1828;  Collected 
Works  edited  by  Hamilton,  1854-1858).  Thomas  Brown  (1778-1820; 
Inquiry  into  the  Relation  of  Cause  and  Effect,  1803)  seeks  to  reconcile 
the  teachings  of  Hume  with  the  philosophy  of  common-sense.  In  Sir 
William  Hamilton  this  philosophy  comes  under  the  influence  of  Kant's 
criticism.  The  German  philosophers  of  the  Enlightenment  were 
attracted  to  the  Scottish  philosophy,  with  which  they  had  much  in 
common,  and  translated  many  of  the  writings  of  the  school.  In  France, 
Royer-Collard  and  Th.  Jouffroy  espoused  the  philosophy  of  common- 
sense  in  opposition  to  sensationalism,  materialism,  and  positivism. 
(See  pp.  380,  f.,  504,  513,  ff.) 

Writings  of  Reid :  An  Inquiry  into  the  Human  Mind  on  the  Principles 
of  Common  Sense,  1764;  Essays  on  the  Powers  of  the  Human  Mind, 
1785,  1788.  Collected  Works  by  Hamilton,  7th  ed.,  1872;  Selections 
from  Inquiry  by  Sneath.  See  Fraser,  Reid;  Peters,  T.  Reid  als  Kritiker 
von  D.  Hume.  On  the  whole  movement  see  especially  the  works  on 
Scottish  and  English  philosophy  mentioned  pp.  254,  f. 


DEVELOPMENT  OF  RATIONALISM  IN  GERMANY 

53.    GOTTFRIED  WILHELM  LEIBNIZ 

Philosophy  made  little  headway  in  Germany  during  the  cen- 
turies preceding  the  eighteenth.     The  barren  theological  contro- 
versies following  the  Reformation,  and  the  Thirty 
Rise  of  Years'  War  (1618-1648),  were  not  favorable  to  the 

Cultu-e  development  of  science  and  philosophy.    The  period 

which  produced  Shakespeare,  Bacon,  Milton,  and 
Locke  in  England,  Montaigne,  Corneille,  Racine,  Moliere,  Pascal, 
and  Descartes  in  France,  found  culture  at  a  low  ebb  in  the  land 
of  Luther.  The  German  language  itself  seemed  to  have  perished 
as  a  literary  instrument:  the  higher  classes  spoke  French  and 
the  scholars  still  wrote  in  Latin, — the  common  people  alone  used 
the  mother-tongue.  French  culture  was  introduced  through  the 
countless  courts  which  were  patterned  after  the  French  pater- 
nalistic models  and  imitated  French  manners.  With  the  division 
of  Germany  into  independent  territorial  principalities,  the  spirit 
of  nationalism  declined,  and  Germans  became  ashamed  of  the 


GOTTFRIED  WILHELM  LEIBNIZ  365 

German  name.  The  universities, — in  this  respect  like  those  of 
England  and  France,— took  no  part  in  disseminating  modern 
ideas;  the  new  science  and  philosophy  grew  up  outside  of  the 
universities  and  were  encouraged  by  educated  polite  society. 
The  first  great  representatives  of  the  new  culture  in  Germany 
are:  Samuel  Pufendorf  (1632-1694),  who  advocated  the  the- 
ory of  natural  law,  Christian  Thomasius  (1655-1728),  who  pub- 
lished the  first  periodical  in  the  German  language  and  was  the 
first  to  lecture  in  German, — at  the  University  of  Leipzig, — and 
Leibniz,  who  distinguished  himself  in  mathematics,  jurispru- 
dence, and  philosophy.  Walter  von  Tschirnhausen  (1651-1708), 
who  corresponded  with  Spinoza  and  Leibniz,  accepted  the  mathe- 
matical method,  but  held  that  all  deductions  must  begin  with 
the  facts  of  experience  and  find  their  verification  in  experience. 
All  these  thinkers  are  pioneers  of  modernism  in  Germany  and 
forerunners  of  the  Enlightenment,  which  had  already  begun  to 
sow  its  seed  in  England  and  in  France  and  which  was  destined 
to  reap  a  rich  harvest  in  the  land  of  Lessing,  Goethe,  and 
Kant. 

Descartes  assumes  two  distinct  principles  of  explanation,  body 
and  mind,  the  essential  attributes  of  which  are,  respectively, 

extension  and  thought.     Spinoza  sets  up  one  uni-  . 

,       ,    .  ,  .  ,  The  Problem 

versal  substance,  which,  however,  is  conceived  as 

both  extended  and  thinking.  Both  philosophers  regard  the 
physical  and  mental  realms  as  two  absolutely  closed  systems, 
with  the  difference  that  Descartes  permits  interaction  between 
the  two  at  a  single  point  in  the  human  brain.  Everything  OD 
the  physical  side  is  explained  physically:  for  both  the  cor- 
poreal universe  is  a  machine.  The  mechanical  explanation  was 
accepted  by  modern  philosophers  and  modern  natural  scientists 
alike.  It  met  with  vigorous  opposition,  however,  from  the 
philosophical-theological  scholastic  systems  which  dominated 
most  of  the  universities,  and  was  condemned  as  a  godless  doc- 
trine that  failed  to  take  account  of  the  divine  purpose  in  the 
world.  Like  his  predecessors,  Leibniz  became  acquainted  with 
the  scholastic  metaphysics  at  the  university  and  subscribed  to 
the  traditional  world-view  of  the  Protestant  schoolmen  in  hi» 
youth.  But  the  study  of  modern  philosophy  and  science  and. 
especially,  his  discovery  of  the  infinitesimal  calculus  caused  a 


S66  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

significant  advance  in  his  thought,  and  suggested  the  necessity 
of  a  theory  that  would  do  justice  to  the  achievements  of  modern 
science  and  philosophy  as  well  as  to  the  valuable  elements  in 
Christian-scholastic  speculation, — a  system,  in  short,  that  would 
reconcile  mechanism  and  teleology,  natural  science  and  theology, 
modern  and  ancient  philosophy.  And  the  mathematician  Weigel 
of  Jena,  his  teacher,  had  convinced  him  of  the  truth  of  a  con- 
ception that  remained  the  basis  and  guiding  principle  of  all  his 
later  efforts  to  construct  a  world-view :  the  Pythagorean-Platonic 
notion  of  the  harmony  of  the  universe.  He  never  abandoned  the 
idea  that  the  universe  is  a  harmonious  whole,  governed  by  mathe- 
matical and  logical  principles,  that  mathematics  and  metaphysics 
are,  therefore,  the  fundamental  sciences  and  the  demonstrative 
method  the  true  method  of  philosophy. 

Gottfried  Wilhelm  Leibniz  (1646-1716)  was  born  in  Leipzig,  and 
studied  law,  philosophy,  and  mathematics  at  the  universities  of  his 
native  city,  Jena,  and  Altdorf,  receiving  his  doctorate  in  law  from 
the  last-named  institution  in  his  twentieth  year.  Among  his  teachers 
were  Jacob  Thomasius,  the  father  of  the  celebrated  Christian  Thomasius, 
and  E.  Weigel.  After  a  sojourn  (1670-1672)  at  Mayence,  where  he 
was  engaged  in  the  reform  of  the  legal  procedure  of  the  Electorate, 
and  a  diplomatic  mission  to  Paris  (1672-1676),  he  was  called  to 
Hanover  as  court  councilor  and  librarian,  a  post  which  he  held  to 
the  day  of  his  death  (1716). 

Among  his  writings,  which  consisted,  for  the  most  part,  of  shorter 
essays  in  Latin,  French,  and  German,  published  in  learned  journals, 
and  of  private  letters,  are:  Meditationes  de  cognitione,  veritate  et 
ideis,  1684;  Lettres  sur  la  question  si  I' essence  du  corps  consist e  dans 
Vetendue,  1691;  Nouveau  systeme  de  la  nature,  1695;  Nouveaux  essais 
sur  I'entendement  humain  (in  reply  to  Locke's  Essay,  1704;  first  pub- 
lished 1765);  De  ipsa  natura,  1698;  Essais  de  Theodicee,  1710;  La 
monadologie,  1714;  Principes  de  la  nature  et  de  la  grace,  1714. 

Collection  of  philosophical  writings  edited  by  J.  E.  Erdmann,  1840; 
by  Toucher  de  Careil,  1859,  ff.;  by  Janet,  2  vols.,  1866;  by  Gerhard! , 
7  vols.,  1875-1890;  German  writings  by  Guhrauer,  1838-1840.  New 
material  in:  Couturat,  CEuvres  et  fragments  inedits;  Kabitz,  Der  junge 
Leibniz;  P.  Ritter,  Neue  Leibniz-Funde;  Baruzzi,  Leibniz,  avec  de 
nombreux  textes  inedites. 

Translations:  Philosophical  Works  by  Duncan,  2d  ed. ;  New  Essayi, 
by  Langley;  Monadology,  etc.,  by  Latta;  Correspondence  with  Arnault 
and  Monadology,  by  Montgomery. 

Merz,  Leibniz;  Dewey,  Leibniz's  New  Essays;  B.  Russell,  Criticcl 
Exposition  of  the  Philosophy  of  Leibniz;  Guhrauer,  Leibniz,  2  vols, 
transl.  by  Mackie;  K.  Fischer,  Leibniz;  Cassirer,  Leibniz's  System; 
Couturat,  La  logique  de  Leibniz,  and  Sur  la  metaphysique  de  Leibmz 


GOTTFRIED  WILHELM  LEIBNIZ  367 

(Rev.  de  met.  et  morale,  X,  pp.  1-23) ;  Renouvier,  La  nouvelle  monado- 
logie;  de  Careil,  Leibniz,  Descartes  et  Spinoza;  E.  Pfleiderer,  Leibniz 
und  Geulincx;  Stein,  Leibniz  und  Spinoza;  monographs  on  the  Leib- 
nizian  and  Lockian  theories  of  knowledge  by  Hartenstein,  von  Benoit, 
and  Thilly;  van  Biema,  L'espace  et  le  temps  chez  Leibniz  et  chez  Kant. 
Cf.  also  Zeller's  able  work,  Die  deutsche  Philosophic  seit  Leibniz; 
Fabre,  La  pensee  moderne  (from  Luther  to  Leibniz) ;  Moller,  De  Leibniz 
a  Hegel. 

Leibniz  examined  the  presuppositions  of  the  new  science  and 
found  them  inadequate.  Even  the  facts  of  physics,  he  felt, 
could  not  be  satisfactorily  explained  by  the  hy- 
pothesis of  merely  extended  bodies  and  motion.  ^^  °f 
Descartes  had  taught  that  the  quantity  of  motion 
is  constant.  But  bodies  come  to  rest  and  bodies  begin  to  move: 
motion  seems  to  be  lost  and  gained.  This  would  violate  the 
principle  of  continuity,  the  principle  that  nature  makes  no  leaps. 
There  must  be  something  that  persists  when  motion  ceases,  a 
ground  of  motion :  this  is  force,  or  the  conatus,  or  the  tendency 
of  the  body  to  move  or  to  continue  its  motion;  and  force  is 
constant  in  quantity.  Hence,  there  is  no  substance  that  does 
not  act,  that  is  not  the  expression  of  force:  what  does  not  act 
does  not  exist ;  only  what  is  actual  is  real.  Consequently,  force, 
and  not  extension,  is  the  essential  attribute  of  body.  Hence, 
also,  the  law  of  the  conservation  of  motion  must  give  way  to 
the  law  of  the  conservation  of  force  or  energy.  Another  proof 
that  extension  cannot  be  the  essential  attribute  of  body  is  found 
in  the  composite  nature  of  extension:  that  which  is  made  up  of 
parts  cannot  be  a  primary  principle.  Something  simple  is 
needed,  and  force  is  such  a  simple,  indivisible  reality. 

The  geometric  or  static  conception  of  nature  is  replaced,  in 
the  Leibnizian  philosophy,  by  the  dynamic  or  energetic  view. 
Bodies  do  not  exist  by  virtue  of  extension,  but  extension  exists 
by  virtue  of  bodies  (forces)  ;  there  could  be  no  extension  with- 
out force,  without  dynamic  bodies.  According  to  Descartes,  the 
existence  of  bodies  presupposes  extension ;  according  to  Leibniz, 
extension  presupposes  the  existence  of  bodies  or  forces.  Force 
is  the  source  or  "  fountain  of  the  mechanical  world,"  the  me- 
chanical world  the  sensible  appearance  of  forces.  "  Extension 
presupposes  in  the  body  a  property,  attribute,  or  nature  that 
extends  itself,  spreads  itself  out,  and  continues  itself."  There 


368  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

is  a  force  in  body  that  precedes  all  extension.  It  is  owing  to 
the  force  of  resistance  in  the  body  that  it  appears  as  impene- 
trable and  limited,  or  as  matter.  Every  unit  of  force  is  an 
indivisible  union  of  soul  and  matter,  activity  and  passivity;  it 
is  an  organizing,  self-determining,  purposive  force  that  also  lim- 
its itself  or  has  the  power  of  resistance. 

Space,  therefore,  is  conceived  by  Leibniz  as  the  result  of  the 
harmonious  coexistence  of  forces ;  hence  it  has  no  absolute  exist- 
ence,— there  is  no  absolute  space  in  which  things  exist, — but  it 
is  relative  to  the  things  and  would  disappear  with  them.  Forces 
do  not  depend  on  space,  but  space  depends  on  the  forces.  Hence, 
there  can  be  no  empty  space  between  .things  and  beyond  things : 
where  forces  cease  to  act,  the  world  comes  to  an  end. 

Body,  then,  is  a  plurality  of  simple  forces.    Since  many  things 

exist,  there  is  not  one  single  force  in  nature,  but  an  infinite 

number  of  forces,  every  one  of  which  is  a  particu- 

oc  rme  ^^  individual  substance.  Force  is  indivisible  or 
simple,  hence  it  is  immaterial,  unextended.  Sim- 
ple substances  or  forces  are  called  by  Leibniz  metaphysical 
points,  formal  atoms,  essential  forms,  substantial  forms,  or 
monads,  units.  They  are  not  physical  points,  for  these  are  noth- 
ing but  compressed  bodies;  they  are  not  mathematical  points, 
for  these,  though  "  true  "  points,  are  not  "  real,"  but  merely 
* '  points  of  view. ' '  Only  metaphysical  points  are  true  and  real ; 
without  them  there  would  be  nothing  real,  for  without  units 
there  could  be  no  manifoldness.  Moreover,  such  force-atoms 
must  be  eternal :  they  cannot  be  destroyed, — only  a  miracle  could 
destroy  them, — nor  can  they  be  created:  monads  can  neither 
arise  nor  disappear.  The  original  scholastic  conception  of  indi- 
vidual active  substantial  forms,  which  Leibniz  carried  away  witi 
him  from  the  university,  is  thus  transformed  into  the  doc-trine 
of  individual  forces. 

We  know  now  that  the  world  of  bodies  is  composed  of  a:i 
infinite  number  of  dynamic  units,  or  immaterial,  unextendeci, 
simple  units  of  force.  What  else  can  we  say  of  this  principle, 
where  can  we  study  it?  In  ourselves.  We  discover  such  a  siir- 
ple  immaterial  substance  in  our  own  inner  life :  the  soul  is  sue  h 
a  substance.  What  is  true  of  it,  will  be  true,  in  a  measure,  cf 
all  monads.  Reasoning  by  analogy,  Leibniz  interprets  tie 


GOTTFRIED  WILHELM  LEIBNIZ  369 

monads  as  spiritual  or  psychic  forces.  There  is  something 
analogous  in  them  to  our  sensations  and  tendencies  (conations, 
will) ;  they  have  "  perception  "  and  " appetition. ' '  The  same 
principle  that  expresses  itself  in  the  mind  of  man  is  active  in 
body,  plant,  and  animal.  There  is  force  everywhere,  there  is 
no  vacuum  anywhere ;  every  part  of  matter  is  like  a  garden  full 
of  plants;  all  matter  is  animate,  alive,  even  to  its  minutest 
parts. 

But  how  can  there  be  mind  in  the  stone,  and  even  in  the 
plant?  Well,  says  Leibniz,  mind  is  not  absolutely  the  same  in 
stone,  plant,  and  man.  For  Descartes  there  is  nothing  uncon- 
scious in  mind  and  nothing  unextended  in  matter.  The  facts 
of  physics,  however,  show  that  nature  is  essentially  immaterial, 
and  the  facts  of  psychology  show  that  mind  is  essentially  uncon- 
scious. Body  and  extension  are  not  identical  terms;  and  mind 
and  consciousness  are  not  identical  terms.  Mind  consists  of 
perceptions  and  tendencies.  These  perceptions  differ  in  clear- 
ness and  distinctness  in  different  monads;  indeed,  the  human 
mind  itself  reveals  perceptions  of  different  degrees  of  clarity. 
When  I  attend  carefully  to  an  object,  the  elements  attended  to 
stand  out  clearly  and  distinctly,  whereas  the  surrounding  parts 
become  successively  more  and  more  obscure  and  indistinct,  until 
they  are  not  discerned  at  all.  The  farther  an  object  is  from  the 
focus  of  my  attention,  the  smaller  and  fainter  it  is.  There  are, 
therefore,  clear  perceptions  and  obscure  perceptions;  the  latter 
are  called  "  small  perceptions,"  perceptions  petites.  Sensation 
cannot  distinguish  in  the  roar  of  the  ocean  the  different  elements 
or  the  minute  perceptions  produced  by  the  motion  of  each  sepa- 
rate wave,  and  yet  every  one  of  these  separate  sounds  is  con- 
tained in  the  sensation.  Just  as  there  are  different  degrees  of 
clearness  in  the  monad,  so  monads  differ  among  themselves  in 
the  clearness  of  their  perceptions.  In  the  very  lowest  monads, 
everything  is  obscure  and  confused,  in  a  condition  resembling 
sleep ;  they  exist  in  a  kind  of  comatose  state :  such  dormant  life 
wdftind  in  the  plant.  In  animals  there  is  perception  with  mem- 
ory, i.e.,  consciousness;  in  man,  consciousness  becomes  still 
clearer ;  here  it  is  called  apperception,  being  a  ' '  reflexive  knowl- 
edge of  the  inner  state,"  or  self-consciousness. 

Every  monad  has  the  power  of  perception  or  reppeaentation ; 


- 


V  M 

370  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

it  perceives  or  represents  and  expresses  the  entire  universe.  In 
this  sense  it  is  a  world  in  mjniature,  a  microcosm ;  it  is  a  '  *  Jiving 
mirror  of  the  universe, ' '  a  concentrated  world,  a  world  for  itself. 
But  each  monad  represents  theNjniverse  in  its  own  way,  from 
its  own  point  of  view,xw4th  different  degrees  of  clearness;  it  is 
limited,  an  individual,  anoh^s  other  individuals  outside  it.  The 
higher  the  monad,  the  more  clearly  and  distinctly  it  perceives 
or  expresses  or  represents  its  part  of  the  world ;  the  monads 
nearest  to  it,  or  its  own  body,  it  represents  most  clearly.  From 
this  teaching  it  follows  that  "  every  body  feels  everything  that 
occurs  in  the  entire  universe,  so  that  any  one  who  sees  all  could 
read  in  each  particular  thing  that  which  happens  everywhere 
else  and,  besides,  all  that  has  happened  and  will  happen,  per- 
ceiving in  the  present  that  which  is  remote  in  time  and  space. ' ' 

The  monads,  moreover,  form  a  graduated  progressive  series, 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest.  The  universe  is  composed  of 
an  infinite  number  of  monads  in  a  gradually  ascending  scale 
of  clearness,  no  two  monads  being  exactly  alike;  if  they  were, 
they  could  not  possibly  be  distinguished  (the  principle  of  in- 
discernibles).  There  are  no  leaps  in  nature,  no  breaks  in  the 
line  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest;  there  is  a  continuous  line 
of  infinitesimal  differences  from  the  dullest  piece  of  inorganic 
matter  to  God.  Nothing  is  uninhabited,  nothing  unfruitful, 
nothing  dead  in  the  universe.  God  is  the  highest  and  perfect 
monad,  pure  activity  (actus  piirus),  the  original  monad,  the 
monad  of  monads.  The  principle  of  continuity  demands  such  a 
supreme  monad. 

Spinoza  accepts  one  universal  substance,  Leibniz  an  infinite 
number  of  them.  Descartes  also  assumes  a  plurality  of  sub- 
stances, but  his  substances  are  diametrically  opposed  to  one 
another  in  essence  (mind  and  matter),  while  the  Leibniziao. 
forces  are  essentially  alike.  According  to  the  Atomists,  too,  there 
are  many  homogeneous  realities,  but  they  are  material ;  wherea  s 
for  Leibniz  they  are  spiritual.  Like  Plato 's  ideas  the  Leibnizia  a 
principles  are  eternal  purposes,  but  they  are  in  the  things,  ss 
Aristotle  taught :  monads  are  entelechies.  '  *  To  understand  me, ' ' 
Leibniz  declared,  "  you  must  understand  Democritus,  Plato,  and 
Aristotle."  In  his  younger  days,  he  had  held  that  particular 
things  alone  are  real,  that  universals  have  their  real  ground  in 

a 


\  I  V  T         ^r, 

GOTTFRIED  WILHELM  LEIBNIZ  371 

particulars  and  do  not  exist  apart  from  them,  except  in  the 
mind  of  God.  This  individualistic  and  pluralistic  conception 
he  never  abandoned;  indeed,  he  broke  up  the  entire  universe 
into  an  infinite  number  of  individual  existences  and  made  every 
one  of  them  a  spiritual  entity. 

Every  monad  is  in  process  of  evolution  and  realizes  its  nature 
with  inner  necessity.  It  is  not  determined  from  without ;  it  has 
no  windows  through  which  anything  can  enter;  everything  it 
is  to  be  is  potential  or  implicit  in  it.  This  follows  necessarily 
from  the  principle  of  continuity:  nothing  can  be  in  the  monad 
which  has  not  always  been  there,  and  nothing  can  ever  come 
into  it  that  is  not  in  it  now.  It  passes  through  a  series  of  stages 
of  evolution,  unfolding  what  is  preformed  in  it.  The  entire 
human  race  was  preformed  in  tKe  seed  of  Adam  and  in  the 
ovaries  of  Eve.  The  developed  individual  existed  in  germ,  pre- 
formed in  miniature,  in  the  embryo.  Nothing  in  the  monad  can 
be  lost,  all  is  preserved  in  the  later  stages,  and  the  future  stages 
are  predetermined  in  the  earlier  ones.  Hence,  every  monad  is 
"  charged  with  the  past  "  and  is  "  big  with  the  future."  This 
doctrine  of  preformation  (the  incasement  theory)  was  common 
among  the  biologists  of  Leibniz's  time  (Leuwenhoek  and  Swam- 
merdam).  It  was  opposed  by  the  theory  of  epigenesis  ("  pro- 
gressive formation  and  differentiation  of  organs  from  a  germ 
primitively  homogeneous  "),  advanced  by  Caspar  F.  Wolff  in 
1759;  but  the  latter  conception  did  not  meet  with  general  ac- 
ceptance until  after  the  appearance  of  Darwin's  Origin  of 
Species  in  1859. 

The  difference  between  organic  and  inorganic  bodies  is  de- 
scribed as  follows.  Both  are  composed  of  monads  or  cci. 
of  force,  but  the  organism  contains  a  central  monad,  a  "  queen 
monad,"  a  soul,  which  represents,  or  has  before  it,  a  picture  of 
the  entire  body,  and  whk-h  is  the  guiding  principle  of  the 
monads  surrounding  it.  Inorganic  bodies  are  not  centralized 
in  this  way,  but  consist  of  a  mere  mass  or  aggregation  of  monads. 
The  higher  the  bodies,  the  more  organized  they  are, — the  higher 
organism  forming  a  well-ordered  union  of  monads. 

This  suggests  the  problem  of  th«>  relation  of  mindjyotLbody. 
How  does  the  central  monad  :  V\V  might  as- 

sume interaction  between  them,  but  Leibniz  has  already  told 


372  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

us  that  monads  have  no  windows,  that  they  cannot  be  influenced 
or  acted  upon  from  without.  The  occasionalistic  doctrine  that 
God  created  both  body  and  mind  and  regulates  the  actions  of 
each  to  keep  time  one  with  the  other,  as  the  watchmaker  regulates 
his  clocks,  is  also  rejected.  Leibniz's  explanation  is  that  God  in 
creating  minds  and  bodies  has  so  arranged  it,  from  the  very 
beginning,  that  the  two  shall  go  together:  the  relation  between 
soul  and  body  is  a  relation  of  harmony  preestablished  by  God. 
Causal  interaction  is  out  of  the  question.  There  is  a  parallelism, 
or  concomitance,  between  the  mental  and  physical  states :  in  this 
sense  the  body  is  tfie  material  expression  of  the  soul.  It  must 
not  be  forgotten/nowever,  that  the  body  itself  consists  of  num- 
berless monads  or  psychic  forces,  every  one  of  which  is  organic 
and  acts  in  accordance  with  the  preordained  law  of  its  nature. 
11  Souls  act  according  to  the  laws  of  final  causes,  by  means  of 
desire,  ends,  and  means.  Bodies  act  according  to  the  laws  of 
efficient  causes  or  motions.  And  the  two  realms  are  in  harmony 
with  one  another. "  In  other  words,  the  organic  body  and  its 
minutest  parts  are  preformed  by  God:  they  are  "  divine 
automata  "  or  "  divine  machines." 

This  thought  is  extended  to  embrace  the  universe  as  a  whole. 
All  monads  act  together  like  the  parts  of  an  organism,  every 
one  of  which  has  its  function  to  perform.  Everything  is  causally 
related,  but  causation  means  no  more  than  concomitant  changes, 
a  harmonious  action  of  the  parts,  which  has  been  predetermined 
by  God.  God,  in  other  words,  has  arranged  his  universe  in  such 
a  way  that  it  works  without  interference  from  him :  every  state 
in  every  monad  follows  as  the  effect  of  the  preceding  state  in 
that  monad,  and  acts  in  unison  with  the  states  of  all  the  other 
monads.  The  harmony  in  the  universe  is  thoroughgoing.  Every- 
thing in  nature  can  be  mechanically  explained  in  the  sense  that 
there  is  law,  order,  uniformity  in  the  physical  realm.  But  the 
plan  of  the  whole  points  to  a  higher  reason:  God  is  the  ultimate 
cause  of  all  occurrence.  &"  The  source  of  mechanics  lies  in  meta- 

^  -  *«*fa«r  -    •     j        ..*»»-•-.-**•-•*'*'*••* 

physics,"  is  the  motto  which  Leibniz  places  at  the  head  of  his 
system. 

We  cannot  demonstrate  the  necessity  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
the  laws  of  motion ;  they  are  not  necessary  like  the  laws  of  logic, 
arithmetic,  and  geometry.  Their  existence  depends  on  their 


GOTTFRIED  WILHELM 


/fcEf&Niz        ^~#TS 


utility,  and  this  finds  its  ground  in  the  wisdom  of  God.     God_ 
has  chosen  them  as  ways  of  realizing  his  purpose,  hencelthe 
world  owes  its  existence  to  the  purpose  in  the  mind  of  God :  God 
is  the  final  cause  who  uses  secondary  or  efficient  causes  as  means. 

Here  we  have  the  promised  reconciliation  of  mechanism  and 
teleology.  Nature  can  be  explained  without  introducing  the 
"notion  of  purpose,  but  the  mechanical  philosophy  leads  us  to 
God,  for  we  cannot  explain  the  universal  principles  of  physics 
and  mechanics  without  divine  purpose.  Religion  and  reason 
are  thus  harmonized.  There  is  also  a  harmony  between  the 
physical  kingdom  of  nature  and  the  moral  kingdom  of  grace, 
that  is,  all  rational  souls  and  God  himself.  The  souls  are  copies 
of  God,  little  divinities  in  their  own  departments ;  man 's  reason 
is  like  God's  reason  in  kind,  though  differing  from  it  in  degree. 
Man's  purpose,  too,  agrees  with  God's.  Hence,  we  have  a  king- 
dom or  union  of  spirits,  a  harmony  of  souls.  It  is  a  moral 
kingdom  in  contrast  to  the  physical  kingdom, — a  kingdom  of 
grace,  as  Leibniz  calls  it.  But  there  is  harmony  between  the 
two,  between  God  the  builder  of  the  machine  of  the  universe  1\ 
and  God  the  monarch  of  the  divine  spiritual  State. 

This  brings  us  to  Leibniz's  theology.  God  is  the  highest 
monad,  the  monad  of  monads.  His  existence  is  proved  in  several 
ways.  ;  The  principle  of  continuity  demands  a 
highest  monad  at  the  end  of  the  series  of  forces. 
Moreover,  a  cause  is  needed  to  explain  the  monads  themselves,* 
in  accordance  with  the  principle  of  sufficient  reason  (the  causal 
or  cosmological  argument).  Finally,  the  order  and  harmony  of 
nature  call  for  a  harmonizer  (tlu>  physico-theological  proof). 
The  cause  of  the  world  must  be  outside  of  it;  it  must  also  be 
one  since  the  universe  is  one,  and  it  must  be  rational  because 
there  is  order  in  it.  Another  argument  is  offered  which  may 
be  called  an  epistemological  proof.  There  are  eternal  and  nec- 
essary truths,  the  truths  of  logic  and  geometry,  which  presup- 
pose an  eternal  intellect  in  which  to  exist. 

*  Leibniz  defines  the  monads  as  eternal  substances  in  his  metaphysical 
discussion4^,  but  adds  that  only  a  miracle  could  destroy  a  monad.  In 
his  theology,  however,  ho  declares  that  God  created  the  monads  and  that 
God  alone  can  destroy  them.  Sometimes  he  calls  them  "  fulgurat 
or  manifestations  of  God,  thus  closely  approximating  to  the  pantheistic 
conception. 


37*  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

God  as  a  monad  is  an  individual,  a  person.  But  he  transcends 
all  monads,  he  is  supernatural  and  superrational,  the  most  per- 
feet  and  most  real  being.  Man  cannot  form  a  perfectly  clear 
idea  of  God,  because  God  is  the  highest  monad  and  man  is  lim- 
ited. Only  a  perfect  mind  could  know  a  perfect  mind.  Man, 
however,  raises  the  qualities  which  every  monad  possesses  in  a 
certain  degree,  to  the  highest  power,  and  attributes  to  God 
omnipotence,  omniscience,  and  absolute  goodness.  In  this  way 
we  form  a  conception  of  God:  he  is  superrational,  but  not 
contra-rational.  Man  also  has  obscure  ideas  of  God,  confused 
notions,  a  kind  of  longing  or  striving  for  God.  There  are,  there- 
fore, different  stages  of  religion,  corresponding  to  the  different 
degrees  of  clearness  with  which  the  Deity  is  known. 

God,  being  perfect,  does  not  undergo  change  and  develop- 
ment as  do  all  other  monads.  He  is  complete  in  himself  and 
his  knowledge  is  complete;  he  sees  all  things  whole  and  at  a 
glance.  He  is  reality  realized.  He  created  the  world  according 
to  a  plan,  and  chose  this  world  as  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds. 
His  choice  was  not  groundless,  but  determined  by  the  principle 
of  goodness,  that  is,  by  moral  necessity.  He  is  also  determined 
by  logical  necessity ;  that  is,  the  fundamental  laws  of  thought  are 
binding  on  him  as  well  as  on  man. 

But  how  shall  we  account  for  evil  in  the  world  on  this  theory  ? 
The  world  is  the  best  possible  world,  that  is,  the  one  in  which 
there  is  the  greatest  possible  variety  and  harmony  at  once.  It 
is  not  perfect,  however,  it  has  its  defects ;  God  could  not  express 
his  nature  in  finite  forms  without  limitation  and  impediment. 
Such  limitations  are  metaphysical  evils;  they  result  in  pain  and 
suffering  (physical  evil)  and  sin  (moral  evil).  Besides,  evil 
is  a  foil  to  goodness  and  beauty ;  like  the  dark  phases  of  a  picture, 
it  helps  to  bring  out  the  good.  Again,  virtue  gains  strength  in 
combating  evil;  evil  is  the  spur  that  goads  us  to  good  action. 
These  arguments  go  back  to  the  Stoics  and  Neoplatonism,  and 
had  become  common  property  in  the  Christian  theology  of  the 
Middle  Ages. 

Ethics  is  a  rational  science.  There  are  certain  moral  princi- 
ples native  to  the  soul  which  cannot  be  demonstrated,  but  from 
which  other  moral  truths  necessarily  follow.  They  operate  un- 
consciously in  us,  as  instincts,  but  we  may  become  aware  oi 


GOTTFRIEP  WILHELM  LEI3NIZ  875 

them.    Thus  the  truth  that  we  ought  to  seek  pleasure  and  avoid 
pain  is  based  on  confused  knowledge  and  inner  experience,  on 
the   instinctive   desire  for  happiness.     From  this 
principle  others  can  be  deduced,  so  self-evident  in    J 
character  that  even  a  band  of  robbers  would  have  to  obey  them 
to  preserve  their  union. 

Moral  instincts  guide  men  directly  and  without  deliberation, 
but  not  irresistibly,  for  they  may  be  corrupted  by  the  passions 
and  by  evil  habits.  The  principle  of  justice  is  found  even  in 
savages  and  forms  a  part  of  their  nature.  Although  tradition, 
habit,  and  education  help  in  developing  such  tendencies  of  the 
soul,  they  are  ultimately  rooted  in  human  nature  itself. 

It  is  true,  men  do  not  always  obey  the  inborn  laws  of  mo- 
rality, but  this  does  not  prove  that  they  are  ignorant  of  them. 
It  is  not  an  argument  against  the  innateness  of  a  moral  prin- 
ciple to  say  that  it  is  not  recognized  as  such,  nor  is  the  public 
violation  of  such  a  law  an  argument;  it  is  rather  a  proof  of 
ignorance  of  the  law.  The  fact  is,  these  rules  are  not  always 
clearly  perceived,  but  need  to  be  proved,  just  as  the  proposi- 
tions of  geometry  require  demonstration.  Attention  and  method 
are  necessary  to  bring  them  to  the  surface,  and  even  scholars 
may  i^ot  be  fully  conscious  of  them. 

Mental  life  is,  as  we  have  found,  essentially  perception  and 
appetite,  that  is,  cognition  and  conation.  The  union  of  appetite 
and  perception  is  called  impulse  or  desire.  Will  is  conscious 
impulse  or  striving,  impulse  guided  by  a  clear  idea.  Hence,  will 
is  never  an  indifferent  will,  or  caprice,  but  always  determined  by 
an  idea.  Man  is  free  in  the  sense  that  he  is  not  determined  from 
without, — the  monad  has  no  windows  by  which  anything  can 
enter  to  compel  it, — he  is,  however,  determined  from  within,  by 
his  own  nature,  by  his  own  impulses  and  ideas.  Choice  follows 
the  strongest  desire.  To  desire  to  be  free  to  decide  for  one  act 
rather  than  another  is  to  desire  to  be  a  fool. 

Leibniz's  theory  of  knowledge  rests  on  his  metaphysical  pre- 
suppositions. He  accepts  the  rationalistic  ideal  that  genuine 
knowledge  is  universal  and  necessary,  that  it  is  based  on  prin- 
ciples not  derived  from  experience.  The  universe  is  a  mathe- 
matical-logical system  which  reason  alone  can  decipher.  Since  ' 
the  soul-monad  is  an  independent  being  which  no  external  cause 


376  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

can  influence,  knowledge  cannot  come  to  it  from  without,  but 

must  arise  within  the  soul  itself.    The  soul,  therefore,  cannot  be 

an  empty  tablet  upon  which  external  nature  writes 

Logic  and        jts  characters,  as  Locke  holds.    All  our  knowledge 
Theory  of         v       .       ,.  >..,-,          .    -, 

Knowledge  lies  lmPllclt  m  tne  mind:  sensation  and  under- 
standing alike;  experience  does  not  create  it,  but 
it  is  brought  out,  cleared  up,  made  explicit  by  experience. 
Nothing  can  exist  in  the  intellect  that  did  not  first  exist  in  sen- 
sation ;  true, — except,  Leibniz  adds,  the  intellect  itself.  But 
even  if  we  disregard  the  monadic  theory,  he  declares,  it  can  be 
proved  that  knowledge  does  not  come  from  the  senses.  If  it  did, 
universal  knowledge  would  be  impossible,  for  so-called  empirical 
truths  are  without  necessity,  they  are  accidental  propositions: 
we  cannot  assert  that  because  something  has  happened,  it  must 
always  happen  in  the  same  way.  Universal  and  necessary  propo- 
sitions cannot  be  derived  from  the  senses;  they  have  their  seat 
and  origin  in  the  mind  itself. 

Locke  had  argued  that  there  can  be  no  such  innate  or  a  priori 
knowledge  because  we  are  not  always  conscious  of  it.  Locke 
would  be  right  if  nothing  could  be  native  to  the  mind  without 
the  mind's  being  conscious  of  it.  If  the  Cartesian  identification 
of  mental  life  with  consciousness  is  legitimate,  the  empiricist's 
arguments  are  valid.  The  mind,  however,  is  not  always  con- 
scious of  its  ideas:  ideas  and  principles  may  exist  in  the  mind 
without  our  being  conscious  of  them.  Still,  if  it  could  be  shown 
that  all  our  truths  actually  spring  from  sensation,  this  correc- 
tion of  the  Lockian  view  would  do  us  no  good.  But  it  cannot 
be  shown.  The  propositions  derived  from  experience,  or  reached 
by  induction,  are  wanting  in  universality  and  necessity;  they 
do  not  yield  certain  knowledge :  however  numerous  the  examples 
of  an  occurrence  may  be,  they  do  not  prove  that  the  event  will 
always  and  necessarily  take  place.  We  possess  knowledge  which 
does  not  depend  on  the  testimony  of  the  senses:  propositions 
that  are  universal  and  necessary,  as,  for  example,  the  truths 
of  mathematics.  It  is  evident  that  the  mind  itself  adds  some- 
thing in  this  case  which  the  senses  cannot  furnish.  Logic,  meta- 
physics, ethics,  theology,  and  jurisprudenceflare  full  of  propo- 
sitions which  rest  on  principles  having  their  origin  nowhere  but 
in  the  mind  itself.  To  be  sure,  without  sense-experience  we 


GOTTFRIED  WILHELM  LEIBNIZ  377 

might  never  become  conscious  of  such  principles;  our  senses 
furnish  the  occasion  for  our  perceiving  them,  but  they  do  not 
produce  or  create  them.  Without  them  there  would  be  no  sci- 
ence at  all,  but  only  a  collection  of  details.  "  The  final  proof 
of  necessary  truths  comes  from  the  understanding  alone,  and 
the  other  truths  are  derived  from  experiences,  or  the  observa- 
tion of  the  senses.  Our  mind  is  capable  of  knowing  both,  but  it 
is  itself  the  source  of  the  former.  However  numerous  the  par- 
ticular experiences  we  have  of  a  universal  truth  may  be,  we  can 
never  be  absolutely  sure  of  it  by  induction,  unless  we  know  its 
necessity  through  reason."  "  The  senses  can  arouse,  justify, 
and  verify  such  truths,  but  not  demonstrate  their  eternal  and 
inevitable  certitude. ' ' 

Such  innate  truths  do  not  exist  in  the  soul  as  conscious  truths : 
"  we  cannot  rea^  off  the  eternal  laws  of  reason  as  the  edicts 
of  the  praetor  are  read  off  from  the  book,  but  we  can  discover 
them  in  ourselves  by  attending  to  them  when  the  senses  offer  us 
the  occasion."  Ideas  and  truths  are  innate  as  tendencies,  pre- 
dispositions, and  natural  potentialities,  and  not  as  actions,  "  al- 
though these  potencies  are  always  accompanied  by  certain,  often 
insensible,  actions,  which  respond  to  them."  In  this  sense, 
arithmetic  and  geometry  are  potential  in  us ;  we  can  draw  them 
out  of  ourselves  without  employing  a  single  empirical  truth. 
That  such  truths  are  discovered  later  than  the  ideas  of  which 
they  consist  (Locke)  proves  nothing  against  their  originality; 
nor  does  the  fact  that  we  first  learn  the  signs,  then  the  ideas, 
and  then  the  truths  themselves.  General  principles, — the  prin- 
ciple of  identity,  for  example, — constitute  the  very  life  of  our 
thinking;  the  mind  depends  on  them  every  moment,  although 
great  attention  may  be  required  to  become  aware  of  them.  We 
instinctively  employ  even  the  rules  of  logic  in  our  natural  rea- 
soning, without  being  conscious  of  them.  That  there  are  also 
such  innate  principles  in  the  field  of  ethics,  we  have  already 
seen. 

A  bare  faculty  of  receiving  ideas  is,  therefore,  a  fiction.  But 
so  are  the  pure  faculties  or  powers  of  the  schoolmen  fictions 
or  abstractions.  We  never  find  a  faculty  anywhere  that  is  shut 
up  in  itself,  that  does  not  do  anything:  the  soul  is  always  pre- 
ilisposed  to  act  in  a  particular  way,  in  one  way  rather  than 


L 


378  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

in  another,  i.e.,  possesses  definite  tendencies.  Experience  is 
necessary  to  stir  up  the  soul,  but  cannot  create  ideas.  The  soul 
is  not  a  piece  of  wax  on  which  impressions  are  stamped;  those 
who  regard  it  thus,  really  make  a  material  entity  of  it.  The 
empiricist  objects  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  intellect  that  did 
not  exist  before  in  sensation.  He  is  right,  says  Leibniz,  only 
he  should  add, — except  the  intellect  itself.  The  soul  contains 
within  itself  Being,  Substance,  Unity,  Identity,  Cause,  Percep- 
tion, Reasoning,  and  Quantity, — notions  which  the  senses  could 
never  give  us.  ~*s*^^_^ — - 

In  this  teaching,  Leibniz  aims  to  reconcile  the  differences  be- 
tween apriorism  and  empiricism,  a  task  whic/n  was  afterwards 
undertaken  on  such  a  large  scale  by  Kant.  He  also  partly  antici- 
pates Kant  in  his  conception  of  space  as  a  form  oij  the  mind. 
^Sense-perception  and  intelligence  are,  as  f unctions \  of  the  in- 
divisible monad,  the  same  in  kind,  but  they  differj  in  degree. 
Sensations  are  obscure  and  confused  ideas,  while  thp  objects  of 
the  understanding  are  clear  and  distinct^Bess^-perdeption  does 
not  know  things  in  their  true  reality,  as  they  are  in  themselves, 
that  is,  as  active  spiritual  substances  of  monads,  but  perceives 
them,  obscurely  and  confusedly,  as  phenomena,  as  spatial.  The 
coexistence  of  monads,  which  for  clear  conceptual  thought  is 
a  harmonious  order  of  spiritual  substance's,  is  perceived  by  sense- 
perception  as  an  extended  phenomenal  world.  In  other  words, 
the  perceiving  subject  sees  and  imagines  the  spiritual  order 
in  terms  of  space :  ' '  our  ideas  of  space,  figure,  motion,  rest, ' ' 
Leibniz  tells  us,  "  have  their  origin  in  the  common  sense,  in 
the  mind  itself,  for  they  are  ideas  of  the  pure  understanding, 
which,  however,  have  reference  to  the  external  world."  Ac- 
cording to  this  view,  the  idea  of  space  is  native  to  the  mind, 
as  Kant  later  taught.  It  is  not,  however,  ^as  we  have  already 
seen,  merely  an  idea  in  us,  or  merely  a  way  of  looking  at  things, 
aroused  in  us  by  the  coexistence  of  monads;  an  objective  mate- 
rial world  results  from  the  coexistence  of  monads.  But  space 
is  not  real ;  it  is  the  expression  or  manifestation  or  phenomenon 
of  force,  which  is  the  real  thing. 

Rational  knowledge  is  possible  only  through  innate  princi- 
ples, on  which  our  valid  reasonings  are  based.  Among  these 
are  the  principle  of  identity  and  contradiction,  which  is  the 


GOTTFRIED  WILHELM  LEIBNIZ  379 

criterion  of  truth  in  the  sphere  of  pure  thought,  and  the  prin- 
ciple of  sufficient  reason,  which  is  the  criterion  of  truth  in  the 
'sphere  of  experience.  The  principle  of  ^sufficient  reason  has  not 
merely  a  logical  meaningTor  LeibniZj^Hgyery  judgment  must 
•feave  a  ground  or  reason  which  proves  its  truth ; — it  is  a  meta- 
physical principle  as  well, — everything  must  have  a  sufficient 
reason  for  being; — it  implies  logical  ground  and  rea1!  ground 
(ratio  cognoscendi  and  ratio  essendi).  On  it  are  based  physics, 
ethics,  metaphysics,  and  theology:  "  unless  we  accept  it,  the 
proof  of  the  existence  of  God  and  of  many  philosophical  theories 
goes  to  pieces."  The  universe  is  a  rational  system  in  which 
nothing  happens  without  a  sufficient  ground;  it  is  conceived  in 
analogy  with  a  logical  system  in  which  the  propositions  are 
rationally  related.  The  problem  of  philosophy  is  to  discover 
the  fundamental  principles  of  knowledge,  which  are  at  the  same 
time  the  fundamental  principles  or  presuppositions  of  reality. 
There  is  the  same  necessity  in  the  reaL  universe  as  there  is  in 
a  logical  system.  Leibniz 's  logic  influences  his  metaphysics.  But 
his  metaphysics  also  influences  his  logic :  his  conception  of  knowl- 
edge as  a  development  of  principles  immanent  in  the  mind, 
rests  on  his  spiritualistic  monadology,  as  we  have  seen.  %  His 
individualism  does  not  follow  as  a  necessary  consequence  from 
his  logical  conception  of  the  universe ;  the  existence  of  inde- 
pendent individuals  cannot  be  justified  to  the  logical  reason. 
Leibniz,  however,  finds  a  teleological  explanation  for  the  exist- 
ence of  the  individual:  the  individual  is  the  goal  of  the  divine 
creative  will,  and  must,  therefore,  be  contained  in  the  world- 
ground  from  the  very  beginning.  Here,  a  human  value  is  read 
into  the  logical  ground  of  the  universe. 

Besides  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  there  is  confused  knowl- 
edge. Thus,  for  example,  harmony  and  beauty  are  based  on 
certain  proportional  relations.  These  may  be  clearly  known 
by  the  scholar,  but  they  need  not  be;  they  express  themselves 
in  a  feeling  of  aesthetic  enjoyment,  which  is  therefore  an  obscure 
perception  of  harmony,  or  form,  in  man.  So,  too,  the  soul  per- 
ceives the  order  of  things,  the  harmony  of  the  cosmos,  without 
possessing  a  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  of  it;  here  it  has  an 
obscure  feeling  of  God.  This,  too,  is  a  confused  knowledge  which 
can  become  clear. 


880  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 


54.    SUCCESSORS  OF  LEIBNIZ 

The  Leibnizian  philosophy  is  followed  in  Germany  by  a  phi- 
losophy of  common-sense  similar  to  that  of  the  Scottish  school  of 
Eeid.  Leibniz  was  the  first  great  German  thinker 
Philosophy  Of  the  modern  period  to  attempt  a  metaphysical 
Sense"1  system,  but  nearly  all  of  his  writings  consisted  of 

letters  and  articles  composed  in  French  or  Latin 
and  published  in  various  journals.  It  became  the  task  of  Chris- 
tian Wolff  (1679-1754),  professor  at  Halle,  to  systematize  the 
Leibnizian  teachings,  to  adapt  them  to  common-sense,  and  to 
present  them  in  the  German  language.  He  accepts  the  ration- 
alism of  Descartes,  Spinoza,  and  Leibniz  and  identifies  the 
method  of  philosophy  with  that  of  mathematics.  At  the  same 
time,  he  holds  that  the  facts  of  experience  will  agree  with  the 
deductions  of  reason :  reason  and  sense-perception  are  both  legiti- 
mate faculties  of  knowledge.  He  adopts  the  Cartesian  dualism 
of  mind  and  matter,  but  regards  force  as  the  essential  attribute 
of  body,  and  explains  the  apparent  interaction  between  soul 
and  body  as  a  preestablished  harmony  (Leibniz).  With  Spinoza, 
he  conceives  the  universe  as  an  interrelated  causal  order, 
but  also  retains  the  teleological  interpretation  of  Leibniz. 
He  likewise  introduces  the  notion  of  development  into  his 
system. 

Wolff  divides  the  sciences  into  theoretical  and  practical,  ac- 
cording to  the  two  faculties  of  the  soul,  cognition  and  appeti- 
tion ;  including  under  the  former :  ontology,  cosmology,  psychol- 
ogy, and  theology  (all  of  which  constitute  metaphysics)  ;  under 
the  latter:  ethics,  politics,  and  economics.  The  sciences  are  also 
classified  as  rational  and  empirical,  according  as  their  proposi- 
tions are  derived  from  reason  or  from  experience  (rational  cos- 
mology and  empirical  physics ;  rational  psychology  and  empirical 
psychology,  etc.).  Logic  forms  the  introduction  to  all  the 
sciences. 

Wolff  wrote  text-books  on  all  these  subjects  in  German  and 
Latin,  which  were  used  in  the  German  universities  for  many 
years,  and  created  many  of  the  German  philosophical  terms  in 
use  to-day.  Although  he  was  lacking  in  originality  and  actually 
weakened  the  Leibnizian  philosophy,  he  gave  an  impetus  to  the 


SUCCESSORS  OF  LEIBNIZ  381 

study  of  philosophy  in  Germany,  and  contributed  to  the  Enlight- 
enment. 

Among  the  followers  of  the  Leibniz-Wolffian  school  were  Bilfinger 
(1693-1750),  A.  Baumgarten  (1714-17C2),  the  founder  of  German 
aesthetics,  and  Kant  during  his  earlier  period.  The  Wolffian  philosophy 
developed  into  an  eclectic  movement,  which  sought  to  reconcile  em- 
piricism and  rationalism  and  prepared  the  way  for  Kant's  Critique  of 
Pure  Reason.  We  mention  M.  Knutzen  (+1751),  Kant's  teacher;  J.  H. 
Lambert  (1728-1777),  one  of  Kant's  correspondents;  N.  Tetens  (1736- 
1805),  who  influenced  Kant.  Other  representatives  of  this  eclecticism 
are  the  so-called  popular  philosophers,  whose  chief  merit  consisted  in 
presenting  the  dominant  philosophy  in  popular  form:  M.  Mendelssohn 
(1729-1786);  C.  Garve  (1742-1798),  the  translator  of  Ferguson's  and 
A.  Smith's  writings;  J.  J.  Engel  (1741-1802) ;  E.  Platner  (1744-1818) ; 
F.  Nicolai  (1733-1811).  Samuel  Reimarus  (1694-1768),  influenced  by 
this  school  and  English  deism,  was  a  deist  and  an  acute  critic  of  the 
Scriptures.  All  these  thinkers  may  be  regarded  as  representatives  of 
the  German  Aufkldrung  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

Zeller,  op.  cit.;  K.  Fischer,  Leibniz;  Baumann,  Wolff 'sche  Begriffs- 
bestimmungen;  Zimmermann,  Lambert:  der  Vorganger  Kants;  Stoning, 
Die  Erkenntnistheorie  von  Tetens. 

The  rationalism  of  Leibniz  and  Wolff  did  not  satisfy  all 
thinkers;  some  lacked  faith  in  the  competence  of  reason  to 
arrive  at  truth  and  yet  were  unwilling  to  join  the  .^ 

ranks  of  the  empiricists  or  skeptics.  These  men, 
the  lineal  descendants  of  the  mystics,  found  in  inner  experience, 
in  feeling  and  instinct,  the  source  of  certainty:  the  highest 
truths  cannot  be  demonstrated,  but  only  felt.  There  was  some 
justification  for  such  a  view  in  the  teaching  of  Leibniz  that 
feeling,  craving,  or  impulse  is  but  another  stage  of  knowledge, 
an  instinctive  form  of  truth.  Leibniz  regarded  this  as  a  lower, 
confused  form  of  knowledge;  the  philosophers  of  faith  or  feel- 
ing discover  in  it  a  higher  phase:  what  the  limited  reason  of 
man  cannot  fathom,  may  be  felt  or  divined  in  religious,  aes- 
thetic, or  moral  feeling.  We  mention:  J.  G.  Hamann  (+  1788), 
J.  G.  Herder  (1744-1803),  who  criticizes  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure 
Reason  in  his  Metacritique,  and  F.  H.  Jacobi  (1743-1819),  who 
opposes  rationalistic  metaphysics  with  a  philosophy  based  on 
intuition.  (See  pp.  428,  ff.) 

A  kindred  movement,  called  Pietism,  arose  in  German  Protes- 
tantism as  a  reaction  against  the  rationalizing  theology  of  the 
new  church:  Christianity  is  not  a  doctrine  for  professors  to 


382  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

speculate  upon,  but  an  inner  religious  conversion.  P.  J.  Spener 
(1635-1705),  A.  H.  Francke  (1663-1727),  and  J.  J.  Lange  (1670- 
1744)  are  conspicuous  members  of  this  wing;  the  last  two  were 
responsible  for  C.  Wolff's  dismissal  from  his  professorship  at 
Halle. 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  ENLIGHTENMENT 

55.   PROGRESS  OF  ENLIGHTENMENT 

We  have  described  the  modern  spirit  as  a  spirit  of  revolt 
against  medieval  society,  its  institutions  and  conceptions,  and  as 
the  self-assertion  of  human  reason  in  the  field  of 
thought  and  action.  The  work  begun  by  the  Re- 
naissance was  continued  in  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries;  the  Reformation,  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  and 
the  political  and  social  revolutions  in  England  and  in  France 
(the  Fronde)  were  symptoms  of  the  change.  The  great  Con- 
tinental systems  and  English  empiricism,  with  their  various 
offshoots,  added  fuel  to  the  flame  which  had  produced  them; 
and  the  spirit  of  independent  inquiry  slowly  but  surely  trans- 
formed the  view  of  life.  But  the  new  ideas  had  to  be  popu- 
larized and  disseminated  over  larger  areas  of  mankind,  and  this 
task  was  performed  during  the  eighteenth  century,  which  has 
been  called  the  century  of  the  Enlightenment :  it  represents  the 
culmination  of  the  entire  intellectual  movement  which  we  have 
been  describing.  It  is  an  age  in  possession  of  principles  and 
world-views ;  full  of  confidence  in  the  power  of  the  human  mind 
to  solve  its  problems,  it  seeks  to  understand  and  to  render  in- 
telligible human  life, — the  State,  religion,  morality,  language, 
— and  the  universe  at  large.  It  is  an  age  of  philosophical  dog- 
mas, an  age  that  has  the  courage  to  write  books  like  Wolff's 
Reasonable  Thoughts  on  God,  the  World,  and  the  Soul  of  Man, 
also  on  All  Things  in  General.  It  is  the  age  of  free  and  inde- 
pendent thought  that  speaks  out  its  ideas  boldly,  particularly 
in  France,  and  fearlessly  draws  the  consequences  of  its 
principles. 

Philosophy  in  the  eighteenth  century  not  only  mirrored  the 
strivings  of  the  times,  but  influenced  their  action.  It  came  out 


PROGRESS  OF  ENLIGHTENMENT  383 

of  the  closet  of  the  scholars,  and,  as  in  the  days  of  Socrates, 
mingled  with  the  crowd  in  the  market-place ;  it  no  longer  spoke 
a  special  language  of  its  own, — the  language  of  the  schoolmen, — 
but  expressed  itself  in  the  speech  of  the  people  and  in  terms 
intelligible  to  men  of  general  intelligence.  In  France,  owing 
to  social,  political,  and  ecclesiastical  oppression,  the  Enlighten- 
ment found  its  most  radical  utterance;  and  here  its  influence 
was  greatest:  the  Revolution  was  the  result  of  the  propagation 
of  the  new  ideas.  The  respect  for  human  reason  and  human 
rights  which  characterized  nearly  all  the  important  modern 
philosophical  doctrines,  became  universal  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, and  the  words  humanity,  good-will,  natural  rights,  liberty, 
equality,  brotherhood  were  on  every  tongue.  Even  the  pater- 
nalistic governments  regarded  it  as  their  function  to  contribute 
to  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  mankind.  The  revolt  against 
medievalism  culminated  in  the  great  social  and  political  upheaval 
that  marked  the  close  of  the  century :  the  old  regime  gave  way  to 
a  new  society.  "What  the  modern  spirit  had  been  demanding  was 
in  part  achieved :  liberty  of  conscience  and  worship,  equal  oppor- 
tunity and  economic  freedom,  representative  government  and 
equality  of  all  individuals  before  the  law. 

Hibben,  The  Philosophy  of  the  Enlightenment;  Leyy-Bruhl,  History 
of  Modern  Philosophy  in  France;  Macdonald,  Studies  in  the  France 
of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau;  the  essays  of  John  Morley  on  Voltaire, 
Diderot,  Rousseau,  and  Condorcet;  Stephen,  English  Thought  in  the 
Eighteenth  Century;  Fabre,  Les  peres  de  la  revolution  (from  Bayle 
to  Condorcet) ;  Damiron,  Memoir es  pour  servir  a  I'histoire  de  la 
philosophic  au  XVIII.  siecle,  3  vols. ;  Hettner,  Litteraturgeschichte  des 
18.  Jahrhunderts;  Ritchie,  Natural  Rights;  and  histories  of  politics. 

Chief  among  those  who  helped  to  awaken  the  new  spirit  and 
to  spread  the  new  ideas  in  France,  and  indeed  throughout  Europe, 
were  Voltaire  (1694-1778)  and  Montesquieu  (1685-   Voltaire 
1755),  both  of  whom  had  visited  England  and  were 
filled  with  admiration  for  English  institutions.     Voltaire,  the 
brilliant    and    versatile    propagandist    of    the    Enlightenment, 
popularized   and   applied   the   Lockian    ideas, — which    he   had 
brought  back  with  him  from  England  together  with  Newton's 
natural  philosophy  and  English  deism, — in  his  Lettres  sur  les 
Anglais,  1728,  a  book  which  was  burned  by  order  of  the  cen- 


384  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

sorship.  He  himself  was  a  deist  and  never  gave  up  his  belief 
in  God:  "  All  nature  cries  out  to  us  that  he  exists."  In  his 
earlier  writings  he  also  accepts  the  freedom  of  the  will  and  the 
immortality  of  the  soul,  but,  later  on,  he  becomes  skeptical  with 
regard  to  life  after  death,  and  also  inclines  to  determinism: 
' '  When  I  can  do  what  I  will,  I  am  free ;  but  I  will  necessarily 
what  I  will. ' '  But  he  always  ruthlessly  attacked  superstition  and 
ecclesiastical  domination:  revealed  religion  he  regarded  as  the 
product  of  ignorance  and  deceit,  as  the  work  of  clever  priests 
making  use  of  human  stupidity  and  prejudice  in  order  to  rule 
over  men.  His  religion  was  based  on  the  immutable  principles 
of  morality,  which,  in  his  opinion,  have  remained  essentially  the 
same  in  the  teachings  of  philosophers.  He  combated  oppression 
of  all  kinds  and  fought  for  intellectual,  political,  and  religious 
liberty:  for  the  freedom  of  the  press,  the  freedom  of  elections, 
the  freedom  of  parliaments,  and  he  demanded  political  rights 
for  the  third  estate  or  the  bourgeoisie,  which  had  grown 
prosperous  in  industry  and  trade.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  all  his 
liberalism,  he  was  not  an  apostle  of  democracy ;  he  had  no  faith 
in  the  capacity  of  the  lower  classes  for  self-government:  "  it 
seems  necessary,"  he  said,  "  that  there  should  be  an  ignorant 
rabble;  when  they  begin  to  argue,  everything  is  lost."  The 
age  of  reason  is  not  intended  to  include  *  *  lackeys,  cobblers,  and 
hired  girls  "  in  its  blessings. 

Voltaire's  thoughts,  for  the  most  part,  express  the  spirit 
of  the  Lockian  philosophy,  although  the  influence  of  Bayle's 
Dictionary,  which  affected  nearly  all  the  intellectual  leaders 
of  France  in  the  eighteenth  century,  must  not  be  overlooked. 
English  ideas  had  a  large  share  in  liberalizing  and  revolution- 
izing France. 

Besides  the  works  already  mentioned,  see  monographs  on  Voltaire 
by  Carlyle,  Feuerbach,  Bersot,  Desnoiresterres,  Pellissier,  and  Sakmanr . 

Among  the  men  who  assisted  in  developing  and  propagating  the 
English  empirical  philosophy  were:  Condillac,  Helvetius,  Condorce', 
Cabanis,  Volney,  Bonnet,  Destutt  de  Tracy,  La  Mettrie,  Holbach,  anc, 
especially,  the  Encyclopedists,  led  by  Diderot  and  d'Alembert. 

In  England  the  Enlightenment  did  not  reach  its  zenith  withi  i 
a  comparatively  short  period,  as  in  France ;  nor  did  its  inflr  - 
enee  express  itself  so  spectacularly  as  there.  The  social  cond  - 


PROGRESS  OF  ENLIGHTENMENT  385 

tions  were  not  the  same,  and  there  had  been  greater  progress: 
the  new  ideas  and  ideals  had  gradually  found  their  way  into 
the  life  of  the  people.    Nearly  all  the  philosophers 
who  based  themselves  on  the  Lockian  principles  may    Enlighten- 
be  called  illuminators.     The  deists,  the  moralists,    ^Tland 
Hume,  Hartley,  Priestley,  Erasmus  Darwin,  William 
Godwin,  the  author  of  Political  Justice  (1793),  Thomas  Paine, 
the  author  of  The  Rights  of  Man  (1791-92)  and  The  Age  of  Rea- 
son (1794),  all  encouraged  the  progress  of  independent  thought. 
In     Germany    the    Leibniz- Wolffian    metaphysics    remained 
the  dominant  system  until  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
when  English  ideas  began  to  exercise  an  influence 
through  translations  of  the  works  of  Locke,  Hume, 
and  English  moralists  like  Shaftesbury,  Hutche- 
son,  and  Ferguson.    The  result  was  a  combination  of  rationalism 
and  empiricism,  an  eclecticism  or  common-sense  philosophy  that 
conceives  the  universe  and  human  history  as  a  rational,  teleo- 
logical  order  which  can  be  made  perfectly  intelligible  to  reason 
because  it  is  the  expression  of  reason.    Its  task  consists  in  clear- 
ing up  (Aufkldrung)  all  mystery  and  banishing  all  superstition, 
in  illuminating  everything  by  the  light  of  reason.     It  offers  a 
natural  or  rational  theology,  undertaking  to  prove  and  make 
clear  the  fundamental  doctrines  common  to  all  religions:  the 
existence  of  God,  the  freedom  of  the  will,  and  the  immortality 
of  the  soul.     We  have  already  mentioned  the  leading  figures 
in  this  movement  in  metaphysics.    The  same  rationalistic  method 
is  applied  in  the  study  of  history:  language,  law,  the  State, 
morality,  religion  owe  their  origin  to  human  reason;  language, 
for  example,  was  invented  by  man  to  communicate  his  thoughts, 
the  State  organized  in  order  to  insure  his  welfare.     Since  all 
these  things  are  the  work  of  reason,  the  ideal  should  be  to  make 
them  more  and  more  rational,  to  eliminate  the  irrational  and 
accidental  elements  that  have  crept  into  them  and  corrupted 
them  in  the  course  of  history.    It  was  this  rationalistic  mode  of 
thought  that  helped  to  transform  the  political  theories  in  Ger- 
many and  made  popular  the  doctrines  of  equality  and  natural 
rights  even  in  the  courts  of  the  rulers  (Frederick  the  Great  and 
the  Emperor  Joseph) :  social  distinctions  are  contrary  to  nature 
and  contrary  to  reason. 


386  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  Aufkldrung  even  carries  its  standards  of  clearness  and 
utility  into  the  field  of  aesthetics;  poetry,  sculpture,  architec- 
ture, and  painting  follow  rationalistic  models:  Gellert's  fables, 
as  some  one  has  said,  are  "moral  philosophy  in  verse  "  and  his 
religious  hymns  a  "  rational  theology  put  into  rhyme."  Gott- 
sched  wrote  a  book  on  the  Art  of  Poetry  which  shows  how  poetry 
must  be  made  in  order  to  serve  as  a  means  of  enlightening  and 
moralizing  mankind. 

This  is  the  same  movement  which,  a  century  before,  had  found 
its  voice  in  England  in  the  philosophy  of  Locke.  It  is  opposed 
by  the  great  leaders  of  literature  and  philosophy  who  made  the 
last  quarter  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  brightest  period  of 
German  intellectual  life.  Kant  attacks  the  rational  theology  of 
the  Enlightenment,  Herder  its  rationalistic  interpretations  of 
history,  Winckelmann  and  Lessing,  Goethe  and  Schiller  its  ra- 
tionalistic a3sthetics. 

We  have  seen  how  the  Cartesian  philosophy  led  to  an  ob- 
jective idealism  in  Malebranche,  and  how  English  empiricism 
became  idealism  in  Berkeley.  The  same  great 
Materialism  movements  were  also  turned  to  materialistic  ac- 
Evolutionism  count  ^n  tne  eighteenth  century.  Descartes  offered 
a  mechanical  explanation  of  the  organic  kingdom, 
and  conceived  the  animal  as  a  complete  machine.  This  sug- 
gested the  thought  that  man,  too,  is  a  machine,  and  that  the 
soul  is  not  a  separate  entity,  but  a  function  of  the  body.  The 
attempt  of  Locke's  successors  (Condillac,  Hartley,  and  others) 
to  reduce  all  mental  processes  to  sensations  formed  an  easy 
transition  to  the  view  that  such  elementary  states  are  merely 
effects  of  the  brain.  Leibniz  reduced  matter  to  force  and  con- 
ceived it  as  analogous  to  spiritual  activity;  others  reversed  tha 
order  and  interpreted  spiritual  activity  as  physical  force.  And 
when  the  spiritual  principles,  which  filled  the  universe  of  tha 
old  Aristotelian  metaphysics,  were  banished  from  nature  by  mod- 
ern science  and  relegated  to  a  separate  world  of  their  own  07 
philosophy,  what  wonder  was  it  that  some  thinkers  should  have 
dispensed  with  them  altogether  and  explained  all  phenomena  as 
the  results  of  matter  in  motion? 

The  materialistic  world-view  made  headway  in  England  an  I 
in  France  during  the  eighteenth  century,  and  by  the  end  cf 


PROGRESS  OF  ENLIGHTENMENT  387 

that  period  had  become  a  popular  doctrine  in  the  enlightened 
circles  of  the  latter  country.  According  to  John  Toland  (1670- 
1721),  in  his  later  writings  (Pantheisticon,  1720),  thought  is 
a  function  of  the  brain,  "  a  certain  motion  of  the  brain  ";  the 
tongue  is  no  more  the  organ  of  taste  than  the  brain  is  the  organ 
of  thought.  David  Hartley  (1704-1757)  makes  all  mental 
processes  depend  on  vibrations  in  the  brain,  which  follow  me- 
chanical laws, — psychological  association  being  attended  by 
physiological  association, — but  does  not  reduce  states  of  con- 
sciousness to  motion.  He  is  not  sure  whether  the  relation  ought 
to  be  regarded  as  a  causal  one  or  not.  Joseph  Priestley,  the 
discoverer  of  oxygen  (1733-1804),  however,  identifies  psychical 
processes  with  movements,  thus  boldly  accepting  the  materialistic 
solution  of  the  mind-body  problem.  Nevertheless,  he  does  not 
deny  the  existence  of  God  or  the  immortality  of  the  soul;  fol- 
lowing Hobbes,  he  declares  that  there  is  nothing  inconsistent 
with  Christianity  in  the  conception  of  the  materiality  of  the 
human  and  the  divine  soul. 

The  Frenchman  La  Mettrie  (1709-1751;  Histoire  naturelle 
de  I'ame,  1745,  L'homme  machine,  1748,  L'homme  plante,  1748), 
who  was  influenced  by  both  Descartes  and  Locke,  bases  his  ma- 
terialism on  Descartes 's  mechanical  explanation  of  the  animal 
organism :  if  the  animal  is  a  machine,  why  not  man  ?  The  mate- 
rialistic theory  is  elaborated  into  a  comprehensive  system  of 
metaphysics  by  the  German  Baron  d'Holbach  (+1789),  in  the 
Systeme  de  la  nature  (first  published  in  London,  1770,  under 
the  pseudonym  of  Mirabaud).  Everything  is  explained  by  mat- 
ter and  motion,  as  the  effect  of  necessary  laws.  There  is  no  soul ; 
thought  is  a  function  of  the  brain ;  and  matter  alone  is  immortal. 
The  human  will  is  strictly  determined ;  there  is  no  design  in  na- 
ture or  outside  of  nature,  no  teleology  and  no  God. 

Other  advocates  of  materialism,  though  not  always  con- 
ently  and  openly  such,  are:  Denis  Diderot  (1713-1784,  editor 
of  the  Encyclopedia}  during  the  later  period  of  his  litV; 
Cabanis  (1757-1808;  Thought  is  the  function  of  the  brain,  as 
digestion  is  the  function  of  the  stomach,  and  the  secretion  of 
bile  the  function  of  the  liver),  and  Destutt  de  Tracy  (1754- 
1836).  The  French  biologists  Buffon  (Histoire  naturelle,  1749, 
ff.)  and  Robinet  (De  la  nature,  1763,  ff.)  accepted  a  modified 


388  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

form  of  materialism  (hylozoism)  ;  Buff  on  assumes  the  existence 
of  molecules  endowed  with  life,  and  Robinet  (who  was  influ- 
enced by  Leibniz)  gives  sensation  to  every  particle  of  matter. 
Evolutionary  conceptions  appear  in  the  writings  of  many  of  the 
thinkers  of  the  time,  for  example  in  La  Mettrie's  L'homme 
plant e  and  La  systeme  d' Epicure,  1748;  in  Diderot's  De  la 
nature,  1763,  ff.,  and  de  Bonnet's  La  palingenesie  philosophique, 
1769.  These  men  may  be  regarded  as  forerunners  of  Lamarck 
and  Darwin. 

However  the  thinkers  of  the  French  Enlightenment  may  dif- 
fer in  details,  they  agree  that  the  phenomena  of  nature,  be 
they  physical  or  mental,  are  governed  by  law,  that  the  mental 
and  moral  life  of  man  is  a  necessary  product  of  nature.  From 
this  standpoint,  Helvetius  (+1771)  explains  human  morality, 
the  economists  Turgot  and  Condorcet  (1743-1794)  develop  a 
philosophy  of  history,  and  Montesquieu  (1689-1755;  Esprit  des 
lois,  1748)  studies  human  laws  and  institutions. 

Hibben,  op.  cit.,  chap,  v;  Weber,  op.  cit.,  pp.  399-417;  Hoffding, 
History  of  Modern  Philosophy,  vol.  I,  Bk.  V;  Lange,  History  of 
Materialism;  Cousin,  Philosophy  of  Locke;  Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  cit., 
§  18 ;  Damiron,  op.  cit. 

The  age  of  the  Enlightenment  did  not  confine  itself,  however, 
to  the  propagation  of  the  general  ideas  which  the  preceding 
centuries  had  worked  oat;  it  devoted  itself  assidu- 
ously to  the  study  of  the  sciences,  natural  and 
mental.  It  has  no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  the  men  whom  it 
produced  in  these  fields :  Euler,  Lagrange,  and  Laplace  in  mathe- 
matics; Herschel  and  Laplace  (Mecanique  celeste)  in  astron- 
omy; Galvani  and  Volta  in  physics;  Lavoisier,  Priestley,  Davy, 
Haiiy,  and  Berzelius  in  chemistry;  Linne,  Haller,  Bichat,  and 
C.  F.  Wolff  in  biology;  Alexander  von  Humboldt,  who  was 
eminent  in  many  sciences;  Montesquieu  in  politics  and  juris- 
prudence; Quesnay,  Turgot,  and  Adam  Smith,  the  founders  of 
the  new  political  economy ;  Baumgarten  in  aesthetics ;  not  to 
speak  of  the  psychologists  and  moralists  already  enumerated. 

The  Enlightenment  glorified  knowledge,  the  sciences  and  the 
arts,  civilization  and  progress,  and  boasted  of  the  achievements 


PROGRESS  OF  ENLIGHTENMENT  389 


of  the  human  race.  The  pride  and  self-confidence  of  the  $5nligh 
enment  were,  however,  rudely  shaken  by  Jean  Jacques  04 
(1712-1778),  who  characterized  the  arts  and «cip£ees  \ 
as  fruits  of  luxury  and  indolence  /and  the  Aurice  ~ 
of  moral  decay  (Discours  sur  I 
arts,  1750,  and  Discours  sur  I'Mginc \/t  lefondemepts  dt 
I'megalite  parmi  les  hommes,  1753jWm-demande9Tr^eturn  to 
the  naivete  and  simplicity  of  nature.x\Man  is  by7  nature  inno- 
cent and  good;  he  possesses  an  impulse  tcTpreserve  himself  and 
to  develop  his  capacities,  but  he  is  also  prompted  by  sympathy 
for  others  and  inspired  by  religious  feeling,  gratitude,  and  rev- 
erence. Morality  and  religion  are  not  matters  of  reasoned  think- 
ing, but  of  natural  feeling.  Man's  worth  depends  not  on  his 
intelligence,  but  on  his  moral  nature,  which  consists  essentially 
of  feeling :  the  good  will  alone  has  absolute  value.  Rousseau  em- 
phasizes the  importance  of  the  sentiments  as  an  element  in  our 
mental  life,  and  denies  that  the  development  of  reason  brings 
with  it  the  perfection  of  man.  Men  are  equal  by  nature; 
society,  through  the  institution  of  property,  has  made  them  un- 
equal, so  that  we  now  have  masters  and  slaves,  cultured  and 
uncultured,  rich  and  poor.  Civilization,  with  its  culture  and 
the  inequalities  resulting  therefrom,  has  corrupted  our  natural 
inclinations,  producing  the  slavish  and  the  lordly  vices,  servility, 
envy,  hatred,  on  the  one  hand,  contempt,  arrogance,  and  cruelty 
on  the  other,  and  has  made^life  artificial  and  mechanical.  These 
views  resemble  certain  modern  socialistic  theories  which  seek 
the  origin  of  vices  and  virtues  in  social  conditions  and  look  for 
the  perfection  of  man  in  the  improvement  of  society. 

Rousseau  substitutes  for  representative  government  direct 
government  by  the  people  (initiative  and  referendum).  His 
political  theory  is  the  theory  of  the  Swiss  republican,  as  Locke's, 
which  Voltaire  followed,  was  that  of  the  English  constitutional 
monarchist.  Among  the  people  he  included  not  only  the  third 
estate  or  the  prosperous  bourgeoisie,  but  the  fourth  estate  or 
the  laboring  and  peasant  class,  to  which  he  himself  belonged  and 
for  which  he  demanded  equal  rights  and  deliverance  from  social 
bondage,  as  Voltaire  had  demanded  equal  political  rights  and 
liberty  of  thought  and  conscience  for  the  middle  class.  Rousseau 
takes  the  Lockian  ideal  of  democracy  seriously;  if  all  men  are 


390  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

created  free  and  equal  and  have  the  same  natural  rights  and 
capacities,  there  is  no  reason  why  they  should  be  ruled  or  de- 
prived of  their  inheritance  by  a  privileged  class,  be  it  an  aris- 
tocracy or  an  industrial  bourgeoisie.  It  was  Rousseau's  ideas 
that  found  their  way  into  the  Declaration  of  the  Rights  of  Man,* 
of  1789  and  1793 ;  and  it  is  these  notions  which  are  influencing 
legislation  in  many  countries  to-day. 

The  return  to  nature  will  deliver  us  from  this  corrupt  and 
artificial  existence,  and  can  be  accomplished  only  by  the  creation 
of  natural  social  conditions  and  a  natural|method  of  education. 
(Contrat  social,  1762,  and  Emile,  1762.)  Natural  society  is 
based  on  a  contract  in  which  the  individual  surrenders  his  indi- 
vidual freedom  for  the  liberty  of  citizenship,  which  is  limited 
by  the  general  will,  or  the  moral  will  of  the  people.  Freedom 
is  obedience  to  self-imposed  law.  Sovereignty  lies  with  the 
people;  the  general  will, — that  is,  the  will  of  the  people  in  so 
far  as  it  aims  at  the  common  good, — is  the  highest  law.  Govern- 
ment executes  the  commands  of  the  people,  who  can  limit  or 
recall  the  power  delegated  to  it. 

Rousseau's  theory  of  education  is  a  plea  for  natural  educa- 
tion: for  the  free  development  of  the  child's  natural  and  un- 
spoiled impulses.  Instruction  should  not  begin  until  the  desire 
for  knowledge  arises.  Hence,  education  must  be  largely  negative, 
consisting  in  the  removal  of  unfavorable  conditions,  a  task  that 
requires  the  greatest  care.  The  individuality  of  the  child  should 
be  studied  and  nature  assisted  in  distinguishing  between  good 
and  bad  impulses.  It  is  wise,  therefore,  to  isolate  the  child  from 
its  social  environment  in  order  that  this  development  may  follow 
its  natural  course  under  the  guidance  of  private  teachers.  Rous- 
seau's theory  exercised  great  influence  on  modern  education: 
Basedow,  Pestalozzi,  and  Froebel  are  among  those  who  have 
put  it  to  the  practical  test. 

These  ideas  are  not  inconsistent  with  the  Lockian  principles. 
If  the  soul  is  by  nature  an  empty  tablet,  then  men  are  by  nature 
equal,  and  differences  between  them  are  the  result  of  external 

*  Article  I  of  the  Declaration  of  1789  reads:  "Men  are  born  and  remain 
free  and  equal  in  rights.  Social  distinctions  can  only  be  founded  on  social 
utility."  Article  VI:  "The  law  is  the  expression  of  the  general  will.  All 
citizens  have  a  right  to  take  part,  personally  or  by  their  representatives, 
in  its  formation."  See  Hobhouse,  Liberalism,  p.  61. 


IMMANUEL  KANT  391 

causes  of  all  kinds,  as  Helvetius  had  already  taught.  Education 
and  the  social  environment  become  the  most  important  instru- 
ments for  the  perfection  of  the  human  race.__ 

.Rousseau,  like  Voltaire,  combats  materialism  and  atheism, 
accepting  the  tenets  of  natural  religion ;  in  this  sense  he  is  a 
deist.  But  with  him  religion  is  rooted  in  feeling,  it  is  a  matter 
of  the  heart  and  not  of  the  head,  though  its  truths  may  be 
demonstrated  by  reason.  The  soul  is  immaterial,  free,  and  im- 
mortal; a  future  life  is  made  necessary  by  the  triumph  of  evil 
in  this  world. 

Rousseau  exercised  a  mighty  influence  in  Germany, — on  Kant, 
Herder,  Goethe,  and  Schiller.  Kant  bears  witness  to  the  change 
produced  in  his  conceptions  by  Rousseau's  thoughts  in  the 
following  passage :  c '  I  am  myself  an  investigator  by  inclina- 
tion, I  feel  the  intensest  craving  for  knowledge,  and  the  eager 
impatience  to  advance  in  it,  as  well  as  satisfaction  with  every 
step  of  progress.  There  was  a  time  when  I  believed  that  all 
this  might  redound  to  the  glory  of  mankind;  and  I  despised 
the  ignorant  rabble.  Rousseau  has  set  me  right.  The  boasted 
superiority  has  vanished ;  I  am  learning  to  respect  mankind,  and 
I  should  regard  myself  as  of  much  less  use  than  the  common 
laborer  if  I  did  not  believe  that  this  reflection  could  give  value 
to  all  other  occupations,  that  is,  reestablish  the  rights  of  man- 
kind." 

See,  besides  the  works  on  the  Enlightenment,  p.  383,  monographs 
on  Rousseau  by  John  Morley,  Macdonald,  Hb'ffding;  the  volume  in  the 
Bibliotheque  generate  des  sciences  societies,  by  many  French  scholars; 
Rodet,  Le  contrat  social  et  les  idees  politiques  de  J.  J.  Rousseau; 
Mornet,  Le  sentiment  de  la  nature  en  France  de  Rousseau  a  Saint- 
Pierre;  Hagmann,  Rousseau's  Sozialphilosophie;  Fester,  Rousseau  und 
die  deutsche  Geschichtsphilosophie. 


CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY  OF  IMMANUEL  KANT 

56.   IMMANUEL  KANT 

Modern  philosophy  began  with  faith  in  the  power  of  the 
human  mind  to  attain  knowledge;  the  only  thing  in  question 
was  Iww, — by  what  methods — it  could  be  reached  and  how  far 


392  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

its  limits  extended.  Empiricists  and  rationalists  alike  conceived 
genuine  knowledge  as  universal  and  necessary,  and  nearly  all 

of  them  down  to  Hume  declared  that  self-evident 
Progress  of  propositions  were  possible  in  some  fields.  Descartes, 
Philosophy  Hobbes,  Spinoza,  and  Leibniz  constructed  systems 

of  metaphysics  which  they  deemed  as  logic- 
proof  as  the  Euclidean  geometry.  Bacon  did  not  offer  a  uni- 
versal theory:  that  was  an  enterprise  that  could  not  be  under- 
taken until  the  facts  had  been  established  by  the  new  method; 
but  he  held  that  the  existence  of  God  could  be  demonstrated  and 
the  eternal  essences  of  things  or  laws  of  nature  discovered.  Nev- 
ertheless, doubts  began  to  arise  concerning  the  competence  of 
human  intelligence  to  solve  ultimate  problems  or  even  problems 
of  lesser  scope.  At  times,  metaphysics  and  theology  seemed  to 
Bacon  to  transcend  the  powers  of  natural  reason.  Hobbes,  too, 
agreeing  with  Descartes  that  experience  could  not  give  us  cer- 
tainty and  yet  regarding  sensation  as  the  source  of  all  we 
know,  betrayed  occasional  misgivings  with  respect  to  a  genuine 
science  of  physics.  Locke  saw  the  necessity  of  examining  the 
knowledge-problem  more  thoroughly  than  it  had  been  examined, 
and  reached  the  conclusion  that  we  possess  certain  knowledge 
of  the  agreement  and  disagreement  of  our  ideas,  certain  knowl- 
edge of  our  own  existence  and  of  the  existence  of  God,  and  that 
mathematics  and  ethics  are  secure.  But  we  have  no  such  knowl- 
edge, he  held,  of  the  existence  of  an  external  world  and  of  the 
necessary  connection  of  the  qualities  of  things:  true  knowledge 
is  out  of  the  question  in  natural  science.  Berkeley  declares  that 
there  is  no  external  (material)  world  to  know,  but  that  we  know 
ideas,  spirits,  and  relations  between  ideas.  Bayle  plays  havoc 
with  theological  and  metaphysical  doctrines,  holding  them  to  be 
not  only  beyond  reason  but  contrary  to  reason.  Hume  draws 
what  appear  to  him  to  be  the  consequences  of  the  sensationalistic 
view  of  knowledge :  if  we  can  know  only  what  we  experience  in 
sensation,  then  rational  theology,  rational  cosmology,  and  ra- 
tional psychology  are  impossible :  knowledge  of  God,  world,  and 
soul  is  beyond  our  ken.  Indeed,  even  our  knowledge  of  matters 
of  fact  can  yield  nothing  but  probability;  we  have  no  knowl- 
edge of  necessary  connection,  no  knowledge  of  substance,  no 
knowledge  of  a  self:  we  cannot  even  say  that  our  ideas  neces- 


IMMANUEL  KANT  393 

sarily  follow  the  order  in  which  we  experience  them,  and  which 
we  believe  they  will  repeat.  We  can  attain  "a  kind  of  demon- 
strative knowledge  "  by  comparing  our  ideas,  noting  their 
relations,  and  reasoning  about  the  relations;  and  nothing 
more. 

The  spirit  of  criticism  which  had  undermined  authority  and 
tradition  and  enthroned  reason  was  now  bringing  reason  itself 
to  the  bar  and  denying  reason  's  authority.  It  was 
not  the  empiricists  alone,  however,  who  were  weigh-  yst 
ing  rationalism  in  the  balance  and  finding  it  wanting;  protests 
against  its  supposed  pretensions  and  results  also  came  from  the 
camp  of  the  mystics  and  faith-philosophers,  who  distrusted  the 
deliverances  of  the  intellect  and  sought  in  other  phases  or  func- 
tions of  the  human  soul  a  means  of  stilling  the  longing  for 
certainty.  According  to  them,  the  discursive  understanding  can 
never  pierce  the  covering  of  reality;  truth  has  its  source  in 
feeling,  faith,  or  mystical  vision  of  some  sort  ;  the  deepest  reali- 
ties cannot  be  conceived  by  reason,  but  only  felt  by  the  heart. 
What  particularly  provoked  such  anti-rationalistic  outbursts  as 
these  in  the  modern  era  was  the  mechanistic  and  deterministic 
world-views  to  which  scientific  or  rationalistic  thinking  seemed 
inevitably  to  lead  and  which  degraded  the  individual  to  the  role 
of  a  marionette.  To  many  minds  the  unaided  natural  intelli- 
gence appeared  to  end  either  in  a  hopeless  and  cheerless  skepti- 
cism or  in  a  tragic  fatalism  that  mocked  humanity's  deepest 
yearnings  and  rendered  fictitious  its  most  precious  values. 

To  the  intellect's  destructive  criticism  of  its  own  competence 
and  the  will's  demand  for  the  recognition  of  its  moral  and  reli- 
gious values,   philosophy   was  now   compelled   to 
make  some   answer.     This  task  was  assumed  by      ™ 


Kant,  who  sought  to  do  justice  to  the  various  cur- 
rents of  his  age,  to  the  Enlightenment,  empiricism,  skepticism, 
and  mysticism;  his  problem  was,  as  one  of  his  contemporaries 
put  it,  "  to  limit  Hume's  skepticism  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
old  dogmatism  on  the  other,  and  to  refute  and  destroy  material- 
ism, fatalism,  atheism,  as  well  as  sentimentalism  and  supersti- 
tion." He  himself  had  come  from  the  rationalistic  school  of 
Wolff,  but  he  had  also  been  attracted  to  English  empiri. 
and  Rousseau,  and  Hume  had  "  aroused  him  from  his  dogmatic 


394.  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

slumbers. "  *  He  sees  the  pressing  need  of  an  examination  or 
criticism  of  human  reason,  of  a  tribunal,  as  it  were,  that  shall 
secure  the  just  claims  of  reason  and  dismiss  all  its  groundless 
claims, — of  a  theory  of  knowledge,  in  other  words,  that  shall 
investigate  the  possibility  or  impossibility  of  universal  and  nec- 
essary knowledge,  its  sources,  extent,  and  boundaries.  Philoso- 
phy, he  thinks,  has  been  dogmatic  thus  far:  it  has  proceeded 
without  previous  criticism  of  its  own  powers.  It  must  now  be- 
come criticism,  or  enter  upon  an  impartial  examination  of  the 
faculty  of  reason  in  general ;  with  this  end  in  view  Kant  writes 
his  three  Critiques:  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  an  examina- 
tion of  theoretical  reason  or  science;  the  Critique  of  Practical 
Reason,  an  examination  of  practical  reason  or  morality;  the 
Critique  of  Judgment,  an  examination  of  our  esthetic  and  teleo- 
logical  judgments,  or  purposiveness  in  art  and  in  nature. 

Genuine  knowledge  Kant  defines  as  universal  and  necessary 
knowledge.  He  agrees  with  the  rationalists  that  there  is  such 
knowledge, — in  physics  and  mathematics, — with  the  empiricists 
that  it  is  ideal  knowledge,  not  knowledge  of  things  as  they  are 
in  themselves,  but  knowledge  of  phenomena,  knowledge  of  things 
as  they  appear  to  our  senses;  hence  a  rational  metaphysics  (cos- 
mology, theology,  psychology)  is  impossible.  With  the  em- 
piricists he  also  agrees  that  we  can  know  only  what  we  experi- 
ence, that  sensation  forms  the  matter  of  our  knowledge;  with 
the  rationalists  that  universal  and  necessary  truth  cannot  be 
derived  from  experience.  The  senses  furnish  the  materials  of 
our  knowledge,  and  the  mind  arranges  them  in  ways  made 
necessary  by  its  own  nature.  Hence,  we  have  universal  and 
necessary  knowledge  (rationalism)  of  the  order  of  ideas,  not 
of  foings-in-themselves  (skepticism).  The  contents  of  our 
knowledge  are  derived  from  experience  (empiricism),  but  the 
mind  thinks  its  experiences,  conceives  them  according  to  its 
a  priori  or  native,  that  is,  rational,  ways  (rationalism).  Never- 
theless, things-in- themselves  exist ;  we  can  think  them,  but  not 
know  them  as  we  know  the  facts  of  the  empirical  world.  If  it 
were  not  for  the  moral  consciousness  or  practical  reason,  the 

*  For  the  development  of  Kant's  critical  philosophy  see  works  of 
Paulsen,  Caird,  and  Riehl  mentioned  in  bibliography,  p.  396;  also  Paulsen, 
Entwicklungsgescliiclite  der  kantischen  Erkenntnisstheorie  ;  Boehm,  Die 
vorkritischen  Schriften  Rants. 


IMMANUEL  KANT  395 

questions  concerning  the  existence  of  a  world  other  than  the 
causal  space  and  time  order,  of  God,  freedom,  and  immortality, 
would  be  left  unanswered,  indeed,  could  not  even  be  broached. 

Immanuel  Kant  was  born  in  Konigsberg,  1724,  the  son  of  a  saddler, 
and  was  reared  in  religious  surroundings,  his  parents  being  pietists. 
Nearly  his  entire  life  as  student,  teacher,  and  writer  was  spent  within 
the  boundaries  of  his  native  city.  At  the  Collegium  Fredericianum, 
where  he  prepared  for  the  university  (1732-1740),  he  was  chiefly  in- 
terested in  the  Roman  classics;  at  the  University  of  Konigsberg  he 
studied  physics,  mathematics,  philosophy,  and  theology  (1740-1746). 
From  1746  to  1755  he  served  as  tutor  in  several  families  residing 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Konigsberg;  in  1755  he  received  an  appointment 
as  private  decent  at  the  University  and  lectured  on  mathematics, 
physics,  logic,  metaphysics,  ethics,  physical  geography,  anthropology, 
natural  theology,  and  "  philosophical  encyclopedia."  From  1766  to 
1772  he  combined  with  this  position  the  post  of  assistant  librarian  of 
the  Royal  Library.  In  1770  Kant  became  professor  of  logic  and 
metaphysics,  a  place  which  he  held  until  1797,  when  his  feeble  con- 
dition made  it  necessary  for  him  to  retire.  He  died  in  1804. 

During  his  earlier  years  Kant  followed  the  Leibniz-Wolffian  philos- 
ophy, which  dominated  the  German  universities  and  had  become  popular 
outside  of  academic  circles.  From  1760  to  1770  he  came  under  the 
influence  of  English  empiricism;  Locke  and  Shaftesbury,  and  then 
Hume,  made  a  great  impression  on  him ;  it  was  the  latter  who  "  aroused 
him  from  his  dogmatic  slumbers,"  as  he  says.  By  the  year  1770  he 
had  reached  the  philosophical  standpoint  for  which  he  is  noted,  and 
presented  it  in  a  Latin  dissertation,  De  mundi  sensibilis  atque  intel- 
ligibilis  forma  et  principiis;  the  next  ten  years  he  spent  in  working  it 
out.  His  master-work,  Kritik  der  reinen  Vernunft,  appeared  in  1781 
(2d.,  revised  edition,  1787)  and  was  followed  by  Prolegomena  zu  einer 
jeden  zukunftigen  Metaphysik,  1783,  Grundlegung  zur  Metaphysik 
der  Sitten,  1785,  Metaphysische  Anfangsgriinde  der  Naturwissenschaft, 
1786,  Kritik  der  praktischen  Vernunft,  1788,  Kritik  der  Urtheilskraft, 
1790,  Die  Religion  innerhalb  der  Grenzen  der  blossen  Vernunft,  1793, 
Metaphysik  der  Sitten  (containing  his  philosophy  of  law),  1797,  Zum 
ewigen  Frieden,  1795.  Uber  die  Pedagogik  was  published  in  1803. 

Works  ed.  by  Hartenstein,  10  vols.,  1838,  ff.;  by  Rosenkranz,  Y2 
vols.,  1838,  ff.;  by  Kehrbach  in  Reclam  Universal-Bibliothek ;  recent 
new  editions  by  Prussian  Academy,  11  vols. ;  by  Cassirer,  12  vols. ;  by 
Vorlander,  9  vols.  See  also  B.  Erdmann,  Reflexionen  Kants  zur 
kritischen  Philosophic,  1882,  ff.,  and  Reicke,  Lose  Blatter  aus  Kants 
Nachlass,  1889,  ff.  Separate  ed.  of  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  by  Kehr- 
bach (based  on  Kant's  first  ed.),  by  Erdmann,  and  Adickes  (both  based 
on  second  ed.). 

Translations:  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  (of  2d  ed.)  by  Meiklejohn, 
1854;  (of  1st  ed.  with  supplements  of  2d)  by  Max  Miiller,  1881; 
paraphrase  by  Mahaffy  and  Bernard;  Dissertation  of  1770,  by  Eckoff; 
of  Prolegomena,  by  Mahaffy  and  Bernard ;  Foundations  of  Metaphysics 
of  Morals,  Critique  of  Practical  Reason,  parts  of  Metaphysics  of 


396  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Morals,  and  first  part  of  Religion,  by  Abbott,  in  one  vol. ;  Religion, 
by  Semple;  Metaphysical  Foundations  of  Natural  Science,  by  Bax; 
Cosmogony,  by  Hastie;  Critique  of  Judgment,  by  Bernard;  Philosophy 
of  Law,  Principles  of  Politics,  and  Perpetual  Peace,  by  Hastie; 
Perpetual  Peace,  by  M.  C.  Smith;  Pedagogy,  by  Churton;  Dreams  of 
Ghost-Seer,  by  Goerwitz;  Selections,  by  Watson;  a  paraphrase  of 
Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  by  Fogel  and  Whitney.  Miiller's  translation 
has  been  made  use  of  in  our  account. 

Paulsen,  Kant,  transl.  by  Creighton  and  Lefevre;  Wenley,  Kant  and 
his  Revolution;  W.  Wallace,  Kant;  Adamson,  Philosophy  of  Kant; 
Watson,  Philosophy  of  Kant  Explained;  Weir,  Student's  Introduction 
to  Kant;  Green,  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  Kant,  vol.  II  of  Works; 
Sidgwick,  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  Kant;  E.  Caird,  Critical 
Philosophy  of  Kant,  2  vols. ;  K.  Fischer,  Kant,  2  vols. ;  recent  German 
monographs  by  Kronenberg,  Simmel,  Adickes,  Kiilpe,  Wernicke. 
Morris,  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure  Reason;  Prichard,  Kant's  Theory  of 
Knowledge;  Riehl,  Philosophical  Criticism,  vol.  I;  Stirling,  Text-Book 
to  Kant;  K.  Lasswitz,  Lehre  Kants  von  der  Idealitdt  des  Raumes 
und  der  Zeit;  Volkelt,  Kants  Erkenntnisstheorie;  Cohen,  Kants 
Theorie  der  Erfahrung;  Vaihinger,  Commentar  zu  Kants  Kritik 
der  reinen  Vernunft,  2  vols.;  E.  Pfleiderer,  Kantischer  Kriti- 
zismus  und  englische  Philosophie;  Wartenberg,  Kants  Theorie  der 
Kausalitdt.  F.  Adler,  Critique  of  Kant's  Ethics,  in  Essays  in  Honor 
of  W.  James;  Porter,  Kant's  Ethics;  Schurman,  Kantian  Ethics  and 
the  Ethics  of  Evolution;  Messer,  Kants  Ethik;  Cohen,  Kants  Be- 
grundung  der  Ethik,  2d  ed. ;  Cresson,  Morale  de  Kant;  Delbos,  Philoso- 
phie pratique  de  Kant;  Hegler,  Psychologie  in  Kants  Ethik;  Foerster, 
Entwicklungsgang  der  kantischen  Ethik;  Schmidt,  Entwicklung  der 
kantischen  Ethik;  Thilly,  Kant  and  Teleological  Ethics,  Kant-Studien, 
vol.  VIII,  1 ;  Sanger,  Kants  Lehre  vom  Glauben;  Piinjer,  Religionslehre 
Kants.  Tufts,  Kant's.  Teleology;  Meredith,  Kant's  Critique  of  Judg- 
ment; Stadler,  Kants  Teleologie;  Cohen,  Kants  Begriindung  der 
Aesthetik.  Bowne,  Kant  and  Spencer;  Lovejoy,  Kant  and  the  English 
Platonists,  in  Essays  in  Honor  of  W.  James;  Uphues,  Kant  und  seine 
Vorgdnger;  Bauch,  Luther  und  Kant;  Meyer-Benfey,  Herder  und 
Kant;  Saisset,  dEnesideme,  Pascal,  Kant;  Spicker,  Kant,  Hume  und 
Berkeley;  Sydow,  Kritisches  Kant-Kommentar. 

Works  on  entire  idealistic  movement  in  Germany:  Royce,  Spirit 
of  Modern  Philosophy;  Pringle-Pattison,  From  Kant  to  Hegel; 
Kronenberg,  Geschichte  des  deutschen  Idealismus,  3  vols.  (vol.  I  on 
pre-Kantian  idealism);  Liebmann,  Kant  und  die  Epigonen;  works  by 
Chalybaeus,  Fortlage,  Harms,  Biedermann,  Michelet,  Willm,  Drews. 
See  also  Pfleiderer,  Development  of  Rational  Theology  since  Kant. 
Bibliography  on  Kant  by  Adickes,  Phil.  Rev.,  vol.  II. 


The  fundamental  problem  for  Kant  is  the  problem  of  knowl- 
edge :  What  is  knowledge,  and  how  is  it  possible  ?  What  are 
the  boundaries  of  human  reason  ?  In  order  to  answer  these  ques- 
tions, we  must  examine  human  reason,  or  subject  it  to  criticism. 


IMMANUEL  KANT  397 

Knowledge  always  appears  in  the  form  of  judgments,  in  which 
something  is  affirmed  or  denied.  But  not  every  judgment  is 
knowledge;  in  an  analytical  judgment  the  predi- 
cate merely  elucidates  what  is  already  contained  problem  °f 
in  the  subject:  e.g.,  Body  is  an  extended  thing. 
The  judgment  must  be  synthetic;  that  is,  add  something  to 
the  predicate,  extend  our  knowledge,  not  merely  elucidate 
it:  e.g.,  All  bodies  have  specific  gravity.  Not  all  synthetic 
judgments,  however,  give  us  knowledge;  some  are  derived  from 
experience ;  they  inform  us,  for  example,  that  an  object  has  such 
and  such  properties  or  behaves  thus  or  so,  but  not  that  it  must 
have  these  qualities,  or  behave  so.  In  other  words,  such  judg- 
ments are  lacking  in  necessity:  reason  does  not  compel  their 
acceptance,  as  it  compels  the  acceptance  of  a  mathematical  propo- 
sition. Again,  they  are  lacking  in  universality:  we  cannot  say 
because  some  objects  of  a  class  have  certain  qualities,  that  all 
have  them.  Judgments  lacking  in  universality  and  necessity, 
or  a  posteriori  judgments,  are  not  scientific.  To  be  knowledge, 
a  synthetic  judgment  must  be  necessary:  its  contradictory  must 
be  unthinkable;  and  it  must  be  universal,  i.e.,  admit  of  no  ex- 
ceptions. Universality  and  necessity  have  their  source  not  in 
sensation  or  perception,  but  in  reason,  in  the  understanding 
itself;  we  know  without  experience  (and  in  this  sense  prior  to 
it)  that  the  sum  of  the  angles  of  a  triangle  must  be  equal  to  two 
right  angles  and  that  it  will  always  be  so.  In  order  to  yield 
knowledge,  therefore,  a  judgment  must  be  a  priori. 

Our  conclusion,  then,  is  that  knowledge  consists  in  synthetic 
judgments  a  priori.  Analytic  judgments  are  always  a  priori; 
we  know  without  going  to  experience  that  all  extended  things 
are  extended;  such  judgments  are  based  on  the  principles  of 
identity  and  contradiction.  But  they  do  not  add  to  our  knowl- 
edge. Synthetic  judgments  a  posteriori  add  to  our  knowledge, 
but  are  not  sure;  the  knowledge  they  yield  is  vague,  uncertain, 
problematic.  We  demand  apodictic  certainty  in  our  sciences,  and 
such  certainty  is  possible  only  in  synthetic  judgments  a  priori. 

That  there  are  such  judgments  Kant  never  doubted  for  a 
moment:  we  find  them  in  physics,  in  mathematics,  and  even  in 
metaphysics.  He  accepts  the  existence  of  universal  and  neces- 
sary knowledge  as  an  established  fact,  hence  he  does  not  ask 


398  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

whether  synthetic  judgments  a  priori  are  possible,  but  only  how 
they  are  possible.  What  are  the  conditions  of  such  knowledge ; 
what  does  the  existence  of  such  judgments  logically  presuppose  or 
necessarily  imply?  The  German  criticist's  method  is,  therefore, 
dogmatic,  as  he  says:  the  theory  of  knowledge  is  a  strictly  de- 
monstrable science,  an  a  priori  or  pure  science,  one  that  bases 
its  truths  on  necessary  principles  a  priori.  His  method  is  not 
psychological,  but  logical  or  transcendental:  he  does  not  tell 
us  to  examine  the  conditions  of  knowledge  in  our  own  conscious- 
ness,— how  it  arises  psychologically, — but  to  take  real  knowl- 
edge, say  the  propositions  of  mathematics  or  physics,  and  to 
ask  ourselves  what  the  existence  of  such  propositions  logically 
presupposes.  What,  for  example,  follows  necessarily  from  the 
fact  that  there  can  be  judgments  at  all,  or  judgments  concerning 
space  relations,  or  judgments  affirming  causal  relations?  There 
can  be  no  synthetic  judgment  without  a  synthetic  mind,  no 
spatial  judgment  without  a  space-perceiving  mind,  no  causal 
judgment  without  a  mind  thinking  in  terms  of  cause  and  effect. 
In  employing  this  method  Kant  is,  of  course,  employing  human 
reason  with  all  its  categories,  he  is  taking  for  granted  the  possi- 
bility and  validity  of  knowledge, — that  is,  he  is  a  dogmatist, — 
but  this  does  not  disturb  him,  since  it  would  be  a  "  scandal," 
as  he  declares,  if  Hurne  were  right  in  denying  the  possibility 
of  knowledge.  We  should  simply  never  get  anywhere  if  the 
competence  of  reason  to  examine  itself  had  to  be  established  be- 
fore reason  could  undertake  this  task. 

The  problem,  then,  is :  How  are  synthetic  judgments  a  priori 
possible  in  mathematics,  physics,  and  metaphysics,  or,  How  are 
pure  mathematics,  pure  physics,  and  pure  metaphysics  possible'! 
Show  how  and  why  we  can  have  genuine  knowledge  in  these 
fields.    In  order  to  answer  such  questions,  we  must  examine  the 
organ  of  knowledge;  we  must  consider  its  powers,  its  functions, 
its  possibilities,  its  limitations.    Knowledge  presupposes  a  mind 
We  cannot  think  without  having  something  to  think  about,  anc 
we  can  have  no  object  of  thought  unless  it  is  given  through  th( 
senses,  unless  the  mind  is  receptive  or  has  sensibility.     Sensi 
bility  furnishes  us  with  objects  or  percepts  (Anschauungen,  in 
tuitions;    empirical    intuitions    Kant    sometimes    calls    them) 
These  objects  must  be  thought,  understood,  or  conceived  by  tht 


IMMANUI  L  KANT  399 

understanding;  from  it  arise  concepts.  Knowledge  would  be 
impossible  without  sensation  or  perception  and  thinking  or 
understanding.  These  two  presuppositions  of  knowledge  are 
fundamentally  different,  but  supplement  each  other.  "  Percepts 
and  concepts  constitute  the  elements  of  all  our  knowledge." 
Percepts  without  concepts  are  blind,  concepts  without  percepts 
are  empty.  All  that  the  intellect  can  do  is  to  elaborate  what  is 
given  by  sensibility.  Perhaps  the  two  faculties  have  a  common 
root,  but  it  is  unknown  to  us. 

The  question,  then,  How  is  knowledge  possible?  divides  into 
two  questions :  How  is  sense-perception  possible  ?  and  How  is  un- 
derstanding possible?  The  first  question  is  answered  in  the 
Transcendental  ^Esthetic  (doctrine  of  the  faculty  of  perception), 
the  second  in  the  Transcendental  Logic  (doctrine  of  concepts 
and  judgments).  These  together  form  the  Transcendental  Doc- 
trine  of  Elements. 

Let  us  take  up,  first,  the  Transcendental  ^Esthetic.  What  are 
the  logical  preconditions  of  the  faculty  of  sensibility  or  of  sense- 
perception?  In  order  to  perceive,  we  must  have 
sensations  (color,  sound,  hardness,  etc.).  But  Theory  of 
mere  sensation  would  not  be  knowledge ;  sensation  Perception 
would  be  a  mere  modification  of  consciousness,  a 
mere  change  occurring  in  consciousness,  a  mere  subjective  state 
produced  in  us  by  something  else.  Sensation  must  be  referred 
to  space  and  time,  to  a  definite  place  in  space  and  in  time;  it 
must  be  perceived  as  something  outside,  by  the  side  of  other 
things,  as  something  coming  before  or  after  or  with  something 
else.  Our  sensations  are  arranged  in  a  spatial  and  temporal 
order.  Perception,  therefore,  presupposes  matter  or  content 
(sensations)  and  form  (space  and  time).  Sensations  constitute 
the  raw  material  (colors,  sounds,  weight),  which  is  arranged  by 
sensibility  into  the  framework  or  form  of  space  and  time,  and 
so  become  percepts.  The  soul  not  only  receives  sensations,  but 
by  virtue  of  its  faculty  of  intuition  (intueri:  to  look  at,  en- 
visage) perceives  them:  it  sees  the  color,  hears  the  sound,  out- 
side of  itself,  in  space,  and  in  a  time-order.  Sensibility  possesses 
the  power  to  perceive  space  and  time  a  priori;  indeed,  the  mind 
is  so  constituted  that  it  perceives  space  and  time  even  when  there 
are  no  objects  present;  it  not  only  perceives  objects  in  space 


400  MODERN  1  HILOSOPHY 

and  time  but  space  and  time  themselves.  In  this  sense,  we  can 
speak  of  pure  perception. 

The  functions  or  forms  of  arranging  sensations  in  space  and 
time  cannot  themselves  be  sensations.  They  are  not  empirical 
or  a  posteriori  forms  of  intuition,  but  inherent  in  the  very  nature 
of  the  soul, — a  priori.  Time  is  the  form  of  the  inner  sense :  that 
is,  our  psychic  states  cannot  be  apprehended  otherwise  than  as 
following  one  another  in  temporal  succession;  while  space  is 
the  form  of  the  outer  sense:  we  can  apprehend  spatially  only 
what  affects  our  sense-organs.  But  since  everything  given  or 
presented  to  sense  is  a  modification  of  consciousness  and  so  be- 
longs to  the  inner  sense,  time  is  a  necessary  condition  of  all 
ideas  (Vorstellungen)  or  phenomena. 

Space  and  time  are  not  realities  or  things  existing  for  them- 
selves, nor  are  they  qualities  or  relations  belonging  to  things 
as  such.  They  are  ways  our  sensibility  has  of  apprehending 
objects,  they  are  forms  or  functions  of  the  senses ;  if  there  were 
no  beings  in  the  world  endowed  with  the  intuition  or  perception 
of  space  and  time,  the  world  would  cease  to  be  spatial  and  tem- 
poral. "  Take  away  the  thinking  subject  and  the  entire  cor- 
poreal world  will  vanish,  for  it  is  nothing  but  the  appearance 
in  the  sensibility  of  our  subject."  We  can  never  imagine  that 
there  is  no  space,  although  we  can  conceive  that  it  contains 
no  objects.  That  is,  we  are  compelled  to  perceive  and  imagine 
in  terms  of  space.  Space  is  a  necessary  precondition  of  phe- 
nomena and  hence  a  necessary  a  priori  idea.  This  is  an  example 
of  Kant's  transcendental  or  metaphysical  method,  as  he  calls  it. 
We  cannot  think  things  without  space ;  we  can  think  space  with- 
out things ;  hence  space  is  the  necessary  precondition  of  our  ideas 
of  things,  or  of  the  phenomenal  world.  Whatever  is  a  necessary 
precondition  must  be  an  a  priori  form  of  the  mind.  The  same 
remarks  apply  to  time. 

The  question,  then,  How  is  pure  mathematics  possible?  is 
answered:  we  have  genuine  knowledge,  or  synthetic  judgments 
a  priori,  or  self-evident  truths,  in  mathematics  because  the  mind 
has  space  and  time  forms,  because  it  is  by  nature  compelled  to 
perceive  and  imagine  in  spatial  and  temporal  ways. 

But,  remember,  space  and  time  are  merely  conditions  of  sensi- 
bility, forms  of  sense-perception,  ways  we  have  of  perceiving 


IMMANUEL  KANT  401 

things,  hence  they  have  validity  only  when  applied  to  perceived 
things,  to  appearances  or  phenomena,  not  when  applied  to  things- 
in-themselves  or  to  things  independent  of  our  perception  of 
them.  We  cannot  apply  them  outside  of  our  world  of  ideas. 
But  this  leaves  the  certainty  of  our  experiential  knowledge 
untouched;  knowledge  is  secure  whether  space  and  time  inhere 
in  things-in-themselves  or  are  merely  the  necessary  forms  of  our 
perception  of  things.  The  things  we  perceive  are  not  things- 
in-themselves,  as  which  we  regard  them,  nor  are  the  relations 
we  perceive  the  relations  of  things-in-themselves.  If  we  should 
take  away  the  subject,  or  only  sensibility,  all  the  qualities  and 
all  the  relations  of  things  in  space  and  time,  indeed  space  and 
time  themselves,  would  disappear.  They  could  no  longer  exist 
as  phenomena-in-themselves, — that  is,  we  should  no  longer  refer 
our  sensations  outward, — but  only  as  sensations  in  us,  as  modifi- 
cations of  our  consciousness.  What  things-in-themselves  are 
apart  from  sensibility;  what  it  is  that  causes  sensations  in  us, 
what  it  is  independently  of  its  effect  on  our  sense-organs,  we 
do  not  know.  When  a  thing  strikes  the  eye,  we  have  color; 
when  the  ear,  sound;  and  so  on.  All  these  are  sensations  in 
us;  what  the  thing  as  such  (das  Ding  an  sick)  is  apart  from 
the  effect  produced  on  consciousness,  we  do  not  know.  We  know 
only  our  peculiar  way  of  perceiving  such  things,  a  way  that  may 
not  be  necessary  for  all  creatures  though  it  is  necessary  for  man. 
In  this  sense,  space  and  time  are  subjective  or  ideal.  They  are 
real  or  objective,  however,  in  the  sense  that  all  our  phenomena 
are  arranged  in  spatial  and  temporal  order:  no  object  can  ever 
be  given  to  us  in  experience  that  does  not  come  under  the  con- 
dition of  time;  and  all  objects  as  external  phenomena  will  al- 
ways be  coextensive  in  space. 

To  sum  up.  Real  knowledge,  as  we  human  beings  have  it, 
would  be  impossible  if  it  were  not  for  several  things.  The  mind 
must  have  something  presented  to  it,  it  must  be  capable  of  being 
affected,  or  of  receiving  impressions.  But  if  we  merely  received 
impressions  or  experienced  modifications  of  consciousness,  we 
should  be  shut  up  in  our  own  subjectivity,  we  should  not  per- 
ceive an  objective  world.  Our  sensations  must  be  objectified, 
referred  outward,  projected  into  space,  as  it  were, — arranged  in 
a  spatial  and  temporal  order.  It  is  only  because  the  human 


402  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

mind  possesses  these  ways  of  perceiving,  that  there  can  be  an 
objective  world  as  we  perceive  it. 

This,  however,  is  not  enough.  Mere  unrelated,  disconnected 
percepts  would  not  be  knowledge.  The  mere  perception  of  ob- 
jects in  space  and  time  would  not  yield  knowl- 
Theory  of  edge.  The  mere  perception  of  the  sun  followed  by 
standing^"  *^e  Perception  of  a  hot  stone  is  not  the  same  as 
knowing  that  the  sun  heats  the  stone.  Only  by 
connecting  these  two  experiences  in  thought  in  a  certain  way, 
can  I  form  the  judgment  that  the  sun  is  the  cause  of  heat  in 
the  stone.  Objects  must  be  connected,  related,  conceived,  or 
thought.  Knowledge  or  judgment  would  be  impossible  without 
a  synthetic,  thinking  mind,  that  is,  without  understanding 
(Verstand)  or  intelligence.  Reason  is  not  only  receptive,  but 
active,  spontaneous.  Intuition  is  perceptual,  understanding  con- 
ceptual :  it  thinks  in  concepts.  We  must  make  our  percepts  in- 
telligible, or  bring  them  under  concepts,  as  well  as  make  our 
concepts  sensible,  or  give  them  an  object  in  perception.  The 
understanding  by  itself  cannot  intuit  or  perceive  anything;  the 
senses  by  themselves  cannot  think  anything.  Knowledge  is  pos- 
sible only  in  the  union  of  the  two.  The  science  of  the  rules 
of  sensibility  is  called  Esthetic;  the  science  of  the  rules  of  the 
understanding  is  called  Logic. 

The  understanding  has  different  forms  of  conceiving  or  re- 
lating or  connecting  percepts;  they  are  called  pure  concepts 
or  categories  of  the  understanding,  because  they  are  a  priori 
and  not  derived  from  experience.  The  understanding  expresses 
itself  in  judgment;  indeed,  understanding  is  a  faculty  of  judg- 
ment: to  think  is  to  judge.  Hence,  its  ways  of  conceiving  will 
be  ways  of  judging,  and  to  discover  these  ways  of  judgment 
we  must  analyze  our  judgments,  examine  the  forms  in  which 
they  appear.  Since  our  common  logic  has  already  done  this 
for  us,  we  can  go  to  it  for  help  here.  The  logical  table  of  judg- 
ments will  serve  as  a  guide  to  the  discovery  of  the  categories. 
There  are  as  many  pure  concepts  of  the  mind,  or  categories, 
as  there  are  possible  judgments  in  the  table  of  judgments.  The 
part  of  logic  which  deals  with  this  subject  is  called  Transcen- 
dental Analytic. 

Kant  finds  that  there  are  twelve  kinds  of  judgments:  (1)  the 


IMMANUEI-  KANT  405 

universal  judgment  (All  met8  that  whatever  they  may  be,  the 
ticular  judgment  (Some  planting  to  its  necessary  rules, 
gular  judgment  (Napoleon  was-h  are  intellectual,  be  applied  to 
judgments  we  conceive  things  i^a?  Pure  concepts  and  sense- 
tity :  totality,  plurality,  unity.  ^ar>  or  heterogeneous,  according 
(Heat  is  a  form  of  motion)  ;  (5^t  them  together?  There  must 
is  not  extended)  ;  (6)  the  unlink  idea  between  the  pure  con- 
tended). These  express  the  cate  something  that  is  pure  (with- 
tion,  limitation.  (7)  The  categc:ne  same  time,  sensuous.  This 
heavy) ;  (8)  the  hypothetical  ^(dental  schema,  which  is  used 
the  thermometer  rises) ;  (9)  the  *•  The  employment  of  such 
substance  is  either  solid  or  fluid),  ^understanding.  The  time- 
category  of  relation :  inherence  and  sJt  is  both  pure  and  sensu- 
accident),  causality  and  dependence  (cautime-form, — that  is,  all 
munity  (reciprocity  between  the  active  arie'  they  take  place  in 
The  problematical  judgment  (This  may  be  <?e  sensibility  at  all, 
assertory  judgment  (This  is  a  poison)  ;  (12)  ftem,  it  must  make 
ment  (Every  effect  must  have  a  cause).  Thes^cepts,  its  cate- 
press  the  category  of  modality:  possibility  or  iiL.by  means 
existence  or  non-existence,  necessity  or  contingency.  ;n  time- 

The  problem  arises,  What  right  have  we  to  apply  these  fo 
of  the  mind  to  things  ?  What  is  their  objective  validity  ?  T 
have  a  purely  mental  origin  and  yet  they  are  em- 
ployed in  experience.  We  read  our  categories, 
which  are  independent  of  experience  in  the  sense 
of  not  being  derived  from  experience,  into  experience,  into 
world  of  objects.  How  is  that  possible;  what  right  have  we  to 
do  it?  Jurists  call  the  proof  of  rights  and  claims  in  a  legal 
process  the  deduction.  What  we  need  here  is  a  deduction  or 
proof  or  justification,  a  transcendental  deduction  of  the  cate- 
gories. Kant's  proof  consists  in  showing  that  without  them  in- 
telligent experience  would  be  impossible.  There  could  be  no 
knowledge,  no  connected  world  of  experience,  without  such  origi- 
nal a  priori  acts  of  thought,  without  a  unified  and  unifying 
consciousness  or  self-consciousness,  or  the  synthetic  unity  of 
apperception,  as  Kant  calls  it,  which  operates  with  these  cate- 
gories. Understanding  is  judgment,  the  act  of  bringing  together 
in  one  self -consciousness  (unity  of  apperception)  the  many  per- 
ceived objects.  Without  a  rational  mind  that  perceives  in  cer- 


402  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

mind  possesses  these  ways  of  perd  judges  or  thinks  in  certain 

objective  world  as  we  perceive  it.  <nized  by  nature  (a  priori)  that 

This,  however,  is  not  enough,  it  does,  there  could  be  no  uni- 

percepts  would  not  be  knowledge^  objects  of  experience.   Knowl- 

jects  in  space  and  concepts  of  the  understanding, 

Theory  of        edge.    The  mere  pe^d  us  by  the  senses  and  perceived 

standing^"       the  perception  of  Jgories  serve  to  make  experience 

knowing  that  the  ification. 

connecting  these  two  experienrrception  of  the  freezing  of  water, 
can  I  form  the  judgment  thp-sible  unless  the  mind  apprehended 
the  stone.  Objects  must  b'-O  as  related  in  time  and  connected 
thought.  Knowledge  or  ju<^ught.  The  same  synthetic  unity  of 
a  synthetic,  thinking  necessary  in  order  that  we  may  have 
(Ver stand]  or  intellige^m  order  that  we  may  have  perception, 
active,  spontaneous.  Jy  apprehend.  The  same  spontaneous  acts 
ceptual :  it  thinks  in  reduction,  and  imagination  that  operate  in 
telligible,  or  brincrate  in  sense-experience;  and  the  same  cate- 
concepts  sensib^ork  in  them  both.  Our  world  of  experience  is 
understandable  by  the  categories;  the  phenomenal  order,  or 
senses  >*  as  we  perceive  it,  depends  on  the  forms  of  our  intelli- 
,  -gence,  not  vice  versa,  as  the  empiricists  hold.  This  is  what  Kant 
•  means  when  he  says  that  the  understanding  prescribes  its  laws 
|  to  nature;  this  is  the  Copernican  revolution  which  he  intro- 
'  duced  into  philosophy. 

Since,  then,  the  mind  prescribes  its  laws  to  nature,  it  follows 
that  we  can  know  a  priori  the  universal  forms  of  nature.  We 
can  know  that  the  perceived  world  will  always  be  connected  in 
certain  intelligible  ways,  that  our  experiences  will  always  be  of 
spatial  and  temporal  things  in  fixed  order,  of  things  related 
as  substance  and  accident,  cause  and  effect,  and  as  reciprocally 
influencing  one  another.  We  cannot,  therefore,  go  wrong  in 
applying  the  categories  to  the  world  of  sense.  But,  let  it  not 
be  forgotten,  they  can  be  legitimately  employed  only  in  the  field 
of  actual  or  possible  experience,  only  in  the  phenomenal  world ; 
their  use  is  not  valid  outside  of  this  sphere;  we  cannot  tran- 
scend experience  or  have  conceptual  knowledge  of  the  supersensu- 
ous,  of  things-in-themselves.  It  also  follows  from  this  theory 
that  we  cannot  know  a  priori  the  matter  or  contents  of  experi- 
ence, what  particular  sensations  (colors,  sounds,  weight,  etc.) 


IMMANUEL  KANT  405 

will  be  given;  all  we  can  say  is  that  whatever  they  may  be,  the 
mind  will  organize  them  according  to  its  necessary  rules. 

But  how  can  categories,  which  are  intellectual,  be  applied  to 
percepts,  to  sensible  phenomena?  Pure  concepts  and  sense- 
percepts  are  absolutely  dissimilar,  or  heterogeneous,  according 
to  Kant;  how,  then,  can  we  get  them  together?  There  must 
be  a  third  something,  a  mediating  idea  between  the  pure  con- 
cepts and  the  sense-perceptions,  something  that  is  pure  (with- 
out anything  empirical)  and,  at  the  same  time,  sensuous.  This 
something  Kant  calls  the  transcendental  schema,  which  is  used 
to  connect  or  relate  our  experiences.  The  employment  of  such 
a  schema  is  the  schematism  of  the  understanding.  The  time- 
form  fills  the  requirements  laid  down :  it  is  both  pure  and  sensu- 
ous. All  our  ideas  are  subject  to  the  time-form, — that  is,  all 
our  experiences  are  ordered  by  us  in  time:  they  take  place  in 
time.  Hence,  if  the  intellect  is  to  influence  sensibility  at  all, 
if  it  is  to  relate  sense-experiences  or  connect  them,  it  must  make 
use  of  the  time-form.  It  tries  to  image  its  concepts,  its  cate- 
gories, its  uniform  ways  of  connecting  and  relating,  by  means 
of  the  pure  time-form,  that  is,  to  imagine  them  in  certain  time- 
relations.  For  example,  it  successively  adds  one  to  one,  or  con- 
siders time  as  a  series  of  homogeneous  moments,  thus  getting 
number.  This  operation  of  numbering,  adding  one  to  one,  is 
the  schema  of  the  category  of  quantity, — this  category  expressed 
in  the  form  of  time.  One  moment  of  time  expresses  singularity ; 
several  moments  express  particularity;  all,  or  the  totality  of 
moments,  universality.  The  category  of  quantity  is  expressed 
in  the  schema  of  time-series.  The  intellect  also  imagines  sensa- 
tions occurring  in  time,  a  content  in  time,  something  in  time, 
or  it  imagines  nothing  in  time.  This  is  its  way  of  picturing  to 
itself  the  category  of  quality :  the  concept  of  quality  is  expressed 
in  the  schema  of  time-content.  The  intellect  looks  upon  the 
real  in  time,  the  content,  as  something  that  remains  when  every- 
thing else  changes.  This  is  the  way  it  imagines  the  category  of 
substance.  It  considers  the  real  as  something  upon  which  some- 
thing else  invariably  follows  in  time:  this  is  its  way  of  making 
perceivable  the  category  of  causality.  Or  it  regards  the  quali- 
ties of  one  substance  and  the  qualities  of  another  as  invariably 
appearing  together  in  time :  this  is  its  way  of  imaging  the  cate- 


406  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

gory  of  reciprocal  action.  The  categories  of  substance,  causality, 
and  reciprocal  action  are  expressed  in  the  schema  of  time-order 
(permanence,  succession,  simultaneity).  Or  it  thinks  of  some- 
thing as  existing  at  any  time  (category  of  possibility),  at  a 
definite  time  (actuality),  at  all  times  (necessity).  The  cate- 
gories of  possibility,  actuality,  and  necessity  are  expressed  in 
the  schema  of  time-comprehension. 

As  has  been  pointed  out,  we  cannot  transcend  our  experi- 
ence or  have  a  priori  knowledge  of  the  supersensible,  of  things- 
in-themselves,  of  things  as  they  are  apart  from 
Knowledge  the  way  they  affect  consciousness.  Knowledge  im- 
Themselv^s11"  P^es  Perception,  and  things-in-themselves  cannot 
be  perceived  by  the  senses :  in  sense-perception  only 
the  way  they  appear  to  consciousness  is  made  known.  Nor  can 
they  be  perceived  or  intuited  by  the  intellect ;  we  do  not  possess 
intellectual  intuition,  we  cannot  see  things  face  to  face,  at  one 
glance,  in  the  mind's  eye,  as  it  were;  the  intellect  is  discursive, 
not  intuitive.  If  we  apply  categories  to  such  a  thing-in-itself, 
we  cannot  justify  them :  we  cannot  prove,  for  example,  that 
everything  that  exists  exists  as  a  substance  in  an  intelligible 
world.  We  can,  however,  think  such  a  thing-in-itself,  speak  of 
it  as  something  to  which  none  of  the  predicates  of  sense- 
perception  applies;  say  that  it  is  not  in  space  or  in  time,  that 
it  does  not  change,  and  so  on.  Not  a  single  category,  however, 
can  be  applied  to  it,  because  we  have  no  means  of  knowing 
whether  anything  corresponding  to  it  exists.  We  should  never 
know  whether  anything  existed  corresponding  to  the  notion  of 
substance  if  perception  did  not  furnish  us  with  a  case  in  which 
the  category  is  applied.  In  the  case  of  the  thing-in-itself,  how- 
ever, perception  leaves  us  in  the  lurch. 

The  notion  of  a  thing-in-itself  is  unknowable.  But  it  is  not 
a  contradictory  concept,  for  we  surely  cannot  maintain  that 
the  phenomenal  order  is  the  only  possible  form  of  perception. 
We  can  have  sensible  knowledge  only  of  sensible  things,  not  of 
things-in-themselves ;  the  senses  cannot  presume  to  know  every- 
thing the  intellect  thinks.  The  concept  of  the  thing-in-itself,  or 
noumenon,  as  something  not  knowable  by  the  senses  (but  the 
possibility  of  knowing  which  in  intellectual  intuition  is  think- 
able) is,  therefore,  a  limiting  concept;  it  says  to  the  senses:  here 


IMMANUEL  KANT  407 

is  your  limit,  you  can  go  no  further,  here  is  where  your 
jurisdiction  ceases.  You  can  know  only  phenomena;  the  non- 
phenomenal,  the  noumenal,  the  intelligible  is  beyond  you. 

I  know  things  not  as  they  are  in  themselves,  but  only  as  they 
appear  to  me.  Similarly,  I  do  not  know  myself  as  I  am,  but 
only  as  I  appear  to  myself.  I  am  conscious  of  my  existence, 
of  my  activity,  of  my  spontaneity.  But  consciousness  of  oneself 
is  not  knowledge  of  one's  self.  To  know  is  to  have  percepts.  I 
do  not  perceive  my  self,  my  ego,  nor  do  I  possess  an  intellec- 
tual intuition  of  my  self;  I  see  myself  through  the  glasses  of 
perception,  that  is,  through  the  time-form,  as  a  succession  of 
states.  But  though  I  cannot  know  the  ego  in  the  sense  of  per- 
ceiving it,  I  can  think  it.  Indeed,  Kant's  whole  theory  of  knowl- 
edge is  based  on  the  thought  of  such  an  ego :  the  synthetic  unity 
of  apperception  is  nothing  but  the  self-conscious  self.  There 
can  be  no  knowledge  without  a  self-conscious,  unifying  self;  but 
this  self  itself  cannot  be  known  in  the  sense  of  being  perceived 
directly. 

We  cannot,  therefore, — that  is  now  plain, — have  universal  and 
necessary  or  a  priori  knowledge  of  anything  non-perceivable. 
Hence,  we  cannot  have  a  metaphysic  that  transcends  experience, 
a  metaphysic  of  things-in-themselves,  a  metaphysic  that  can 
offer  us  genuine  knowledge  of  a  non-phenomenal  world, — free 
will,  immortality,  and  God.  But  we  can  have  a  priori  science 
of  the  phenomenal  order,  for  the  reasons  already  mentioned. 
Mathematics  owes  its  necessity  to  the  forms  of  space  and  time, 
geometry  being  based  on  a  priori  space-perception,  arithmetic 
on  the  notion  of  number,  which  expresses  a  priori  time- 
perception.  Natural  science  rests  on  the  categories:  in  it  we 
speak  of  substance  and  accident,  cause  and  effect,  interaction, 
and  so  forth.  Hume  and  the  empiricists  are  wrong.  We  can 
have  universal  and  necessary  knowledge  in  mathematics  and  in 
physics,  but  it  is  knowledge  of  phenomena  only,  and  knowledge 
only  of  the  form  and  arrangement  of  phenomena.  We  cannot 
know  things-in-themselves;  in  this  Hume  is  right.  Things-in- 
themselves,  however,  exist;  indeed,  they  must  exist,  otherwise 
sensation  is  unexplainable.  Corresponding  to  phenomena  there 
must  be  something  that  appears,  something  extra  mentem,  some- 
thing that  affects  our  senses  and  supplies  the  matter  of  our 


408  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

knowledge.  Kant  does  not,  for  a  moment,  doubt  the  existence 
of  such  a  thing-in-itself.  In  the  second  edition  of  the  Critique 
he  even  proceeds  to  prove  its  existence  (Refutation  of  Ideal- 
ism). But,  after  his  strong  insistence  that  it  exists  and  that  it 
is  the  ground  of  our  sensations,  he  is  compelled  by  the  nature 
of  his  system  to  make  it  a  very  uncertain  and  hazy  factor.  It 
becomes  a  limiting  concept,  a  kind  of  check  to  the  pretensions 
of  sense-knowledge :  we  cannot  know  the  supersensible  by  means 
of  the  senses.  Then,  again,  we  are  told  that  although  we  cannot 
know  it,  we  can  think  it:  we  can  deny  categories  of  it.  Or  we 
can  apply  categories  to  it,  but  these  categories  have  no  objective 
validity  when  so  applied.  Here  was  a  problem  which  had  to 
be  worked  out,  and  to  this  Kant  himself  gave  further  atten- 
tion and  to  this  his  successors  addressed  themselves  with  zeal,  as 
we  shall  see. 

The  aim  of  Kant  was  to  show,  first,  against  the  "  skeptic  " 
Hume,  that  we  can  have  knowledge  in  mathematics  and  physics ; 

second,  against  the  Leibniz- Wolffian  ' '  dogmatists, '  ' 
Impossibility  that  we  cannot  have  knowledge  of  the  super- 
physics^  sensible  in  metaphysics,  that  metaphysics  in  this 

sense  is  a  pseudo-science.*  To  the  second  part  of 
his  problem  we  now  turn.  The  understanding  can  know  only 
what  can  be  experienced;  but  reason  strives  to  go  beyond  the 
confines  of  the  understanding,  and  attempts  to  conceive  the 
supersensible,  that  for  which  we  have  no  object  in  perception, 
that  which  is  merely  thought.  It  confuses  percepts  with  mere 
thought,  and  in  this  way  falls  into  all  kinds  of  ambiguities, 
equivocations,  false  inferences,  and  contradictions.  That  is  what 
happens  in  the  metaphysics  of  the  transcendent.  Questions 
which  have  a  meaning  when  asked  with  respect  to  our  world 
of  experience  have  none  when  we  transcend  phenomena.  No- 
tions like  cause  and  effect,  substance  and  accident,  which  are 
perfectly  legitimate  when  applied  to  the  phenomenal  order,  have 
no  meaning  when  transferred  to  a  noumenal  world.  Meta- 

*  There  are,  however,  several  senses  in  which  he  regards  metaphysics  as 
possible:  (1)  as  a  study  of  the  theory  of  knowledge;  (2)  as  absolute 
knowledge  of  the  forms  and  laws  of  nature;  (3)  as  absolute  knowledge  of 
the  laws  or  forms  of  the  will,  i.e.,  as  moral  philosophy;  (4)  as  knowledge 
of  the  spiritual  world,  based  on  the  moral  law;  (5)  as  a  hypothesis  of  the 
Hniverse,  having  a  certain  degree  of  probability. 


IMMANUEL  KANT  409 

physics  too  often  forgets  this,  confusing  phenomena  with  nou- 
mena,  and  so  comes  to  predicate  of  the  transcendent,  concepts 
which  are  valid  only  in  our  world  of  sense.  In  this  way  it 
falls  into  error  and  illusion,  which,  as  involving  principles  of 
the  understanding,  Kant  calls  transcendental  illusion.  He  calls 
the  principles  which  are  applied  within  the  confines  of  pos- 
sible experience  immanent  principles,  those  which  transcend 
these  limits  transcendent  principles,  or  concepts  of  reason,  or 
Ideas.  It  is  an  inevitable  illusion  of  reason  to  mistake  our 
subjective  principles,  which  apply  to  sensations,  for  objective 
principles,  and  to  apply  them  to  things-in-themselves.  It  is 
the  business  of  Transcendental  Dialectics  to  discover  the  illu- 
sion of  such  transcendent  judgments  and  to  prevent  such  illusion 
from  deceiving  us.  It  cannot,  however,  destroy  the  illusion, 
for  the  illusion  is  natural  and  inevitable;  we  may  see  through 
it  and  avoid  being  deceived  by  it,  but  we  cannot  get  rid  of  it. 

A  careful  examination  of  the  arguments  of  metaphysics  will 
reveal  a  lot  of  logical  fallacies,  equivocations,  nonsequiturs,  and 
contradictions.  As  we  saw  before,  the  understanding  is  the 
name  given  to  the  faculty  of  the  mind,  or  reason  in  general, 
which  connects  our  experiences  in  uniform  ways,  according  to 
rules  or  principles,  thus  furnishing  us  with  many  judgments. 
These  judgments  may,  in  turn,  be  embraced  under  more  com- 
prehensive a  priori  concepts.  The  faculty  of  the  mind  which 
is  engaged  in  this  work  is  Reason  as  a  faculty  of  subsuming 
the  rules  of  the  understanding  under  higher  principles.  Rea- 
son (Vernunft),  in  this  sense,  aims  at  a  unification  of  judg- 
ments of  the  understanding.  But  such  higher  principles  are 
merely  subjective  laws  of  economy  for  the  understanding,  striv- 
ing to  reduce  the  use  of  concepts  to  the  smallest  possible  number. 
This  supreme  Reason  does  not  prescribe  laws  to  objects  nor  does 
it  explain  our  knowledge  of  them. 

Thus,  Reason  strives  to  bring  all  mental  processes  under 
a  general  head,  or  Idea  of  a  soul,  in  rational  psychology;  all 
physical  events  under  the  Idea  of  nature  in  rational  cosmology ; 
all  occurrences  in  general  under  the  Idea  of  a  God  in  rational 
theology.  The  notion  of  God  would,  therefore,  be  the  highest 
Idea,  the  highest  unity,  the  one  absolute  Whole  compivhonding 
everything  else.  Such  Ideas,  however,  are  transcendent,  beyond 


410  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

experience :  they  have  no  empirical  value  or  use.  Thus,  we  can 
never  represent  the  Idea  of  an  absolute  Totality  in  the  form 
of  an  image ;  it  is  a  problem  without  a  solution.  Yet  these  Ideas 
have  their  value  and  use  as  guides  to  the  understanding,  they 
lead  it  onward  in  its  pursuit  of  knowledge. 

(a)  Rational  Psychology.     Thus,  it  is  legitimate  to  conclude 
that  there  can  be  no  knowledge  unless  there  is  a  subject,  self, 
or  knower,  unless  thoughts  come  together  in  a  single  conscious- 
ness, and  unless  the  self  that  thinks  the  subject  is  the  same 
self  that  thinks  the  predicate,  in  a  judgment.    But  we  have  no 
right  to  infer  that  this  knower  is  a  self-existent,  simple,  inde- 
composable self-identical  soul-substance,   one  that  remains  the 
same  in  all   change.     In  reasoning  thus,   rational   psychology 
draws  conclusions  not  warranted  by  the  premises;  it  uses  the 
terms    (self  or  subject  and   soul)    in   different   senses,   and  is 
guilty  of  a  fallacy,  which  Kant  calls  a  paralogism.    We  cannot 
prove,  theoretically,  the  existence  of  free  will  and  an  immortal 
soul.    Still,  although  rational  psychology  does  not  add  anything 
to  our  knowledge,  it  prevents  us  from  adopting  either  a  soul- 
less materialism  or  a  groundless  spiritualism.    Reason  here  gives 
us  a  hint  to  turn  from  fruitless  speculations  and  to  put  our  self- 
knowledge  to  moral  use.     The  moral  law  teaches  man  to  esteem 
the  mere   consciousness   of  righteousness   more   than   anything 
else  in  the  world,  and  to  render  himself  fit  to  become  the  citizen 
of  a  better  world,  which  exists  in  his  Idea  only. 

(b)  Rational  Cosmology.     Reason   also  tries  to  reduce  the 
objective  conditions  of  all  our  phenomena  to  an  ultimate  and 
supreme  condition,  or  an  unconditioned.     We   form  the  Idea 
of  nature  as  a  whole,  the  Idea  of  a  universe,  and  either  conceive 
this  as  the  principle  on  which  all  phenomena  depend,  or  we 
seek  the  unconditioned  among  the  phenomena  themselves.     In 
either  case  we  form  cosmological  Ideas,  and  involve  ourselves 
in  all  kinds  of  antitheses,  which  Kant  calls  antinomies:  sophis- 
tical propositions  which  can  neither  hope  for  confirmation  not* 
need  fear  refutation  from  experience.     The  thesis  is  free  from 
contradiction  and  is  rooted  in  the  necessity  of  reason,  but,  un- 
fortunately, the  antithesis  can  produce  equally  cogent  and  nec- 
essary grounds  for  its  support. 

There  are  four  such  antinomies  in  which  both  the  thesis  and 


IMMANUEL  KANT  411 

he  antithesis  can  be  proved.  It  can  be  proved  (1)  that  the 
vorld  has  a  beginning  in  time,  and  that  it  has  no  beginning 
n  time,  or  is  eternal ;  that  it  is  limited  in  space,  and  that  it  is 
inlimited  in  space;  (2)  that  bodies  are  infinitely  divisible,  and 
hat  they  are  not  infinitely  divisible,  that  there  are  simple  parts 
n  them,  which  cannot  be  further  divided  (atoms)  ;  (3)  that 
here  is  freedom  in  the  world,  and  that  everything  in  the  world 
akes  place  according  to  the  laws  of  nature ;  (4)  that  there  ex- 
sts  an  absolutely  necessary  Being  belonging  to  the  world,  either 
,s  part  or  as  cause  of  it ;  and  that  there  is  no  such  Being,  either 
rithin  or  without  the  world,  as  the  cause  of  it.  In  preferring 
me  side  to  the  other,  the  participants  do  not  consult  the  logical 
est  of  truth,  but  only  their  own  interest.  Every  right-thinking 
oan  has  a  certain  practical  interest  in  the  thesis,  or  dogmatism, 
f  he  knows  his  true  interests.  That  the  world  has  a  begin- 
ting,  that  my  thinking  self  is  simple  and  imperishable,  that 
t  is  free  and  not  subject  to  the  compulsion  of  nature,  that  the 
phole  order  of  things,  which  constitutes  the  world,  springs  from 
n  original  Being  whence  everything  receives  its  unity  and  pur- 
>oseful  connection, — these  are  so  many  supports  of  ethics  and 
•eligion.  The  antithesis,  or  empiricism,  robs  us,  or  seems  to 
•ob  us,  of  all  these  supports.  If  there  is  no  original  Being  dif- 
'erent  from  the  world ;  if  the  world  is  without  a  beginning  and, 
herefore,  without  a  Creator;  if  our  will  is  not  free,  and  our 
oul  is  divisible  and  perishable  like  matter,  our  moral  Ideas  and 
>rinciples  lose  all  validity  and  fall  with  the  transcendental  Ideas 
vhich  form  their  theoretic  support. 

There  is  also  a  speculative  interest  involved.  For  if  we 
Assume  the  transcendental  Ideas  in  the  thesis,  we  can  conceive 
\  priori  the  whole  chain  of  conditions  and  the  derivation  of  the 
londitioned  by  beginning  with  the  unconditioned.  The  an- 
ithesis  does  not  accomplish  this.  Yet,  if  the  empiricist  were 
atisfied  with  putting  down  presumption  and  rashness,  his  prin- 
iple  would  serve  to  teach  moderation  in  claims.  We  should  not 
>e  deprived  of  our  own  intellectual  presumptions  or  our  faith 
n  their  influence  on  our  practical  interests.  They  would  merely 
lave  lost  the  pompous  titles  of  science  and  rational  insight,  be- 
lause  true  speculative  knowledge  can  never  have  any  other  ob- 
ject than  experience.  But  empiricism  itself  becomes  dogmatic 


412  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

and  boldly  denies  what  goes  beyond  the  sphere  of  intuitive 
knowledge,  which  does  irreparable  injury  to  the  practical  inter- 
ests of  reason. 

Kant  solves  the  difficulties  involved  in  the  antinomies  by 
pointing  out  that  the  antithesis  holds  for  the  phenomenal  world, 
and  the  thesis  for  the  noumenal  world.  Our  sense-perceived, 
spatial-temporal  world  has  no  first  beginning  in  time  and  no 
extreme  limit  in  space.  We  never  experience  absolute  limits; 
we  can  never  stop  anywhere  in  the  regressus  of  time  or  in  the 
progressus  of  space.  But  there  may  be  a  non-spatial  world  in 
which  absolutely  simple  beings  exist,  a  world  of  spiritual  en- 
tities. It  does  not  follow  that  because  a  limit  is  impossible  in 
the  one  world,  it  is  also  impossible  in  the  other.  For  all  we 
know,  the  true  world  may  have  had  a  beginning,  have  been 
created  by  God,  and  be  limited.  Still,  we  have  no  right  to  search 
for  spiritual  beings  in  space  and  for  spatial  things  in  the  super- 
sensible realm. 

In  the  same  way,  the  causal  antimony  is  solved.  In  the  phe- 
nomenal series,  everything  is  conditioned  by  something  like  it, 
every  effect  has  a  phenomenal  cause ;  no  breach  is  possible  in 
the  causal  nexus.  It  is  our  business  to  go  right  on  in  the  chain 
ad  infinitum.  Still,  it  is  conceivable  that  a  phenomenal  condi- 
tion has  also  an  intelligible  or  noumenal  condition,  that  there  is 
something  outside  of  the  phenomenal  series  on  which  the  phe- 
nomenally conditioned  depends.  It  is  settled  by  the  nature  of 
our  intelligence  that  we  shall  never  find  a  free  cause  in  the 
sense-world,  hence  we  cannot  derive  the  Idea  of  freedom  from 
experience.  It  is  a  transcendental  Idea  because  reason  creates 
it  independently  of  experience.  It  is  easy  to  see,  however,  that 
if  all  causality  in  the  world  of  sense  were  merely  natural  cau- 
sality, every  event  would  be  necessarily  determined  by  some 
other  event,  every  act  would  be  a  necessary  natural  effect  oi 
some  phenomenon  in  nature.  The  denial  of  transcendental  free- 
dom, of  spontaneity,  would  destroy  practical  or  moral  freedom. 
Practical  freedom  presupposes  that  although  something  did  not 
happen,  it  ought  to  have  happened,  hence  that  its  phenomenal 
cause  was  not  absolutely  determining,  that  our  will  could  have 
produced  it  independently  of  its  natural  causes  and  even  con- 
trary to  their  power  and  influence.  If  transcendental  freedom 


IMMANUEL  KANT  413 

is  possible,  practical  freedom  is  possible :  the  will  may  be  inde- 
pendent of  the  coercion  of  sensuous  impulses,  not  necessitated 
as  is  the  will  of  the  brute. 

In  such  a  way  freedom  and  natural  necessity  could  be  recon- 
ciled. We  can  regard  the  phenomena  as  caused  by  the  thing-in- 
itself,  the  intelligible  cause,  which  is  not  perceived,  but  whose 
acts,  the  phenomena,  are  perceived  and  arranged  in  the  unbroken 
causal  series.  One  and  the  same  phenomenon,  looked  at  as  part 
of  the  phenomenal  world  of  space  and  time,  would  then  be  a  link 
in  a  causal  chain ;  looked  at  as  the  act  of  the  non-perceived  thing- 
in-itself,  it  would  be  the  act  of  a  free  cause,  which  originates 
its  effects  in  the  world  of  sense  by  itself.  On  the  one  side,  the 
event  would  be  an  effect  of  nature  only;  on  the  other,  an  effect 
of  freedom.  In  other  words,  this  effect  is  a  phenomenon  and 
must  have  an  empirical  cause,  but  this  empirical  cause  itself  can 
be  the  effect  of  a  non-empirical  cause,  or  intelligible  cause,  or 
free  cause,  without  breaking,  in  the  least,  its  connection  with 
natural  causes. 

Applying  this  teaching  to  man,  we  would  have  the  following 
result.  Looked  at  through  the  spectacles  of  sense  and  under- 
standing, man  is  a  part  of  nature;  in  this  sense  he  has  an 
empirical  character,  he  is  a  link  in  a  chain  of  causes  and  effects. 
But  in  reality  man  is  an  intelligible  or  spiritual  being.  To  such 
a  being  the  sense-forms  do  not  apply ;  such  a  being  can  originate 
acts.  And  man  is  aware  of  this  power,  in  that  he  holds  him- 
self responsible.  Whenever  we  think  of  an  act  as  a  phenomenon, 
we  cannot  regard  it  as  beginning  by  itself,  it  must  have  a  cause. 
We  cannot,  however,  regard  reason  in  that  way,  we  cannot  say 
that  the  state  in  which  reason  determined  the  will  was  preceded 
by  another  state,  and  so  on.  For  reason  is  not  a  phenomenon, 
and  therefore  not  subject  to  any  of  the  conditions  of  sensibility 
(time,  space,  causality).  Hence,  we  cannot  interpret  its  cau- 
sality in  the  natural  way,  that  is,  expect  a  cause  for  everything 
it  does.  Reason,  or  the  intelligible,  or  man  as  he  is  in  himself, 
is  the  permanent  condition  of  all  his  voluntary  acts.  The  em- 
pirical character  is  only  the  sensuous  schema  of  the  intellectual 
character,  that  is,  the  way  we  image  man,  phenomenalize 
trim. 

This  shows  Kant's  meaning  clearly.     Every  voluntary  act  is 


414  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  direct  effect  of  the  intelligible  character,  of  pure  reason; 
hence,  man  is  a  free  agent,  he  is  not  a  link  in  the  chain  of 
natural  causes.  Yet  the  act  itself,  when  looked  at  as  a  phe- 
nomenon, is  absolutely  determined.  The  man  in  himself  is  a 
free  agent,  he  originates  acts ;  but  when  these  acts  are  perceived 
by  a  mind,  that  mind  weaves  them  into  a  web  of  causes,  puts 
something  before  them  and  after  them,  makes  them  the  effects 
of  particular  impulses,  ideas,  education,  natural  disposition,  and 
so  on.  But  the  real  cause  of  the  act  is  reason;  the  action  is 
imputed  to  the  man's  intelligible  character,  which  shows  that 
we  imagine  that  reason  is  not  affected  at  all  by  the  influences 
of  the  senses,  and  that  it  does  not  change. 

In  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  however,  Kant  does  not  aim 
to  establish  the  reality  of  freedom  or  even  to  prove  the  possi- 
bility of  freedom.  He  simply  wishes  to  point  out  that  rea- 
son creates  the  Idea  that  it  can  begin,  absolutely,  a  causal 
series  and,  at  the  same  time,  prescribes  laws  of  causality  to 
the  understanding,  or  involves  itself  in  an  antinomy;  and  to 
prove  that  nature  does  not  contradict  the  Idea  of  free  cau- 
sality. 

The  antinomy  of  necessary  Being  and  contingent  being  Kant 
solves  thus.  The  intellect  refuses  to  regard  anything  as  neces- 
sary or  independent  within  the  phenomenal  series;  everything 
is  contingent  or  accidental,  that  is,  depends  on  something  else. 
But  this  would  not  be  denying  that  the  whole  series  may  depend 
on  some  intelligible  Being,  which  is  free,  independent  of  all 
empirical  conditions,  and  itself  the  ground  of  the  possibility 
of  all  these  phenomena.  We  can  regard  the  whole  world  of 
sense  as  the  expression  of  some  intelligible  Being,  which  is 
the  substance,  the  necessary  Being  without  which  nothing  ca:i 
exist,  and  which  needs  nothing  in  order  that  it  may  exist.  The 
intellect  must  not  say  that  because  the  intelligible  is  useless  i:i 
explaining  phenomena,  it  is,  therefore,  impossible.  Such  ;i 
Being  may  be  impossible,  but  it  does  not  follow  from  what  we 
have  found  to  be  true  of  the  understanding,  that  it  is  impossible. 
When  we  are  speaking  of  phenomena,  we  must  speak  in  terms 
of  seiise,  but  that  is  not  necessarily  the  only  way  of  looking 
at  things;  we  can  conceive  of  another  order  of  existence,  of  an 
order  of  things-in- themselves,  of  non-sensuous  thought-thing!;, 


IMMANUEL  KANT  415 

of  things  not  as  they  appear  to  the  senses,  but  as  we  can  think 
them.  We  are  bound  to  assume  something  intelligible  on  which 
phenomena  depend,  but  we  know  nothing  of  such  objects;  all 
we  can  do  is  to  form  some  kind  of  notion  of  them,  conceive 
them  by  analogy  with  the  ways  in  which  we  use  concepts  of 
experience. 

(c)  Rational  Theology.  We  form  the  Idea  of  an  empirical 
whole,  of  a  whole  of  experience,  and  we  conceive  this  system 
of  objects,  this  universe  of  things,  or  phenomena,  as  something 
existing  apart  from  us.  We  forget  that  it  is  our  Idea,  and  so 
make  an  entity  of  it.  We  represent  it  as  an  individual  thing, 
containing  in  itself  all  reality:  as  the  most  real  thing,  as  the 
highest  reality,  all-sufficient,  eternal,  and  simple.  This  idea 
Kant  calls  the  ideal  of  a  transcendental  theology.  The  ideal  of 
the  most  real  Being,  however,  is  a  mere  Idea.  First  we  make 
an  object  of  it,  that  is,  a  phenomenal  object,  then  we  make  an 
entity  of  it,  and  then  we  personify  it. 

There  are  only  three  proofs  for  the  existence  of  God,  the 
physico-theological,  the  cosmological,  and  the  ontological,  all  of 
which  are  worthless.  To  take  the  ontological  argument:  The 
conception  of  a  Being  that  contains  all  reality  does  not  imply 
existence.  Existence  does  not  follow  from  the  notion  of  the 
most  real  being:  here  we  spin  out  of  an  entirely  arbitrary  Idea 
the  existence  of  an  object  corresponding  to  it.  In  the  Cosmo- 
logical  proof,  we  conclude  from  the  Idea  of  all  possible  experi- 
ence (world  or  cosmos)  the  existence  of  a  necessary  Being.  God 
alone  can  be  conceived  as  such  a  Being.  We  have  no  right,  how- 
ever, to  conclude  that  because  we  think  there  must  be  an  abso- 
lute Being,  such  a  Being  exists.  This  is  really  the  ontological 
proof  over  again.  Moreover,  the  argument  concludes  from  the 
accidental  or  contingent  to  a  cause.  Such  an  inference  has  no 
meaning  outside  of  the  phenomenal  world,  but  in  the  cosmological 
proof  it  is  used  to  transcend  experience,  which  is  forbidden. 
Kant  points  out  that  the  argument  contains  a  nest  of  dialectical 
assumptions.  It  may  be  permissible  to  assume  the  existence  of 
God  as  the  cause  of  all  possible  effects,  in  order  to  assist  reason 
in  the  search  for  the  unity  of  causes,  but  to  say  such  a  Being 
necessarily  exists  is  not  the  modest  language  of  legitimate  hypoth- 
esis, but  the  impudent  assurance  of  apodictic  certainty.  The  un- 


416  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

conditional  necessity,  which  we  require  as  the  last  support  of 
things,  is  the  true  abyss  of  human  reason. 

The  physico-theological  argument  infers  the  existence  of  a 
Supreme  Being  from  the  nature  and  arrangement  of  the  present 
world.  It,  too,  fails.  The  manifoldness,  order,  and  beauty  of 
the  world,  it  tells  us,  lead  us  to  infer  a  cause  of  its  origin  and 
continuance.  Such  a  cause  must  possess  a  higher  degree  of 
perfection  than  any  possible  experience  of  ours.  What  is  to 
prevent  us  from  conceiving  all  possible  perfection  as  united  in 
this  Supreme  Cause  as  in  one  single  substance?  The  proof  de- 
serves respect;  it  is  the  oldest  and  clearest  and  most  in  con- 
formity with  human  reason.  It  reveals  purposes  and  ends  in 
nature,  where  our  observation  would  not  itself  have  detected 
them.  Nevertheless,  we  cannot  approve  of  its  claims  to  apodictic 
certainty.  It  is  an  argument  by  analogy,  inferring  from  the 
similarity  between  natural  products  and  works  of  human  art 
(houses,  ships,  clocks)  that  a  similar  causality,  namely  under- 
standing and  will,  lies  at  the  bottom  of  nature.  If  we  must 
name  a  cause,  we  cannot  do  better  than  to  follow  the  analogy 
of  such  products  of  human  design,  which  are  the  only  ones 
of  which  we  know  completely  both  cause  and  effect.  There 
would  be  no  excuse  if  reason  were  to  surrender  a  causality 
which  it  knows,  and  have  recourse  to  obscure  and  indemonstrable 
principles  of  explanation  which  it  does  not  know.  The  argu- 
ment, however,  could,  at  best,  establish  a  world-architect,  who 
would  be  much  hampered  by  the  quality  of  the  material  with 
which  he  has  to  work,  but  not  a  world-creator  to  whose  Idea 
everything  is  subject.  The  physico-theological  proof  leads  from 
experience  to  the  cosmological  proof,  which  is  merely  the  dis- 
guised ontological  proof.  The  ontological  proof  would  be  the 
only  possible  proof  if  such  a  proof  were  possible  at  all. 

Outside  of  the  field  of  experience,  the  principle  of  causality 
cannot  be  employed  and  has  no  meaning.  Hence,  unless  we 
make  the  moral  laws  the  basis  or  are  guided  by  them,  we  can 
have  no  National  theology.  For,  all  synthetic  principles  of  the 
understanding  are  applicable  immanently  only,  that  is,  in  the 
phenomenal  realm ;  to  arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  a  Supreme  Being, 
we  must  use  them  transcendentally,  and  for  this  our  under- 
standing is  not  prepared.  Even  if  we  should  allow  the  causal 


'I 


IMMANUEL  KANT  417 

leap  beyond  the  limits  of  experience,  we  could  not  reach  a  con- 
cept of  a  Supreme  Being,  because  we  never  experience  the 
greatest  of  all  possible  effects  from  which  to  conclude  the  Supreme 
Cause.  Transcendental  theology  has  an  important  negative  use, 
however ;  it  acts  as  a  constant  censor  of  our  reason  and  removes 
all  atheistic  or  deistic  or  anthropomorphic  assertions. 

Though  the  transcendental  Ideas  produce  an  irresistible  illu- 
sion, they  are  as  natural  to  reason  as  are  the  categories  of  the 
understanding.  The  latter,  however,  convey  truth, 
i.e.,  agreement  of  our  concepts  with  their  objects.  u^e  of  Meta- 
Every  faculty  has  its  use,  provided  we  can  dis- 
cover  its  right  direction.  The  transcendental 
Ideas  have  their  immanent  use ;  but  when  they  are  mistaken  for 
concepts  of  real  things,  they  are  transcendent  in  their  applica- 
tion and  deceptive.  They  have  no  constitutive  use,  that  is,  they 
are  not  concepts  of  objects ;  they  have  a  regulative  use,  that  is, 
they  direct  the  understanding  to  a  certain  aim:  they  unify  the 
manifoldness  of  concepts,  just  as  the  categories  bring  unity  into 
the  manifoldness  of  objects.  Through  the  Ideas  reason  aims 
to  systematize  our  knowledge,  to  connect  it  by  means  of  one 
principle.  This  systematic  unity  is  merely  logical;  the  reason 
must  keep  on  unifying;  systematic  unity  is  a  method,  it  is 
subjectively  and  logically  necessary,  as  a  method,  not  objectively 
so.  Many  of  the  so-called  scientific  principles  are  Ideas,  having 
hypothetical  value,  but  not  absolute  truth.  We  can  know  a  priori 
only  the  forms  of  reality,  e.g.,  that  it  is  spatial  and  temporal,  that 
things  are  causally  related.  But  that  there  are  fundamental 
causes,  or  powers,  or  substances,  or  even  one  such  power,  or 
cause,  or  substance,  is  a  mere  hypothesis.  We  cannot  assert  that 
such  unity  exists,  but  we  must  always  look  for  it,  in  the  interest 
of  reason,  in  order  to  introduce  order  into  our  knowledge.  Phi- 
losophers assume  that  there  is  such  unity  in  nature  when  they 
say:  "  Principles  should  not  be  multiplied  beyond  necessity." 

Some  students  of  nature  (preeminently  speculative)  are  more 
intent  on  the  unity  of  nature,  on  discovering  likeness  in  di- 
versity; others  (preeminently  empirical)  are  constantly  striving 
to  divide  nature  into  species.  The  latter  tendency  is  based  on 
a  logical  principle  which  aims  at  systematic  completeness.  Erery 
genus  has  different  species;  these,  different  sub-species,  and 


418  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

so  on.  Keason  demands  that  no  species  be  regarded  as  the  lowest 
in  itself.  We  have  therefore  the  law  of  homogeneity  and  the 
law  of  specification,  which  are  not  derived  from  experience. 
Moreover,  there  are  always  intervening  species  possible  between 
the  species  and  sub-species.  This  is  the  law  of  the  continuity 
of  species :  there  is  no  transition  from  one  to  another  per  saltum, 
by  leaps,  but  only  by  smaller  degrees  of  difference.  This  law 
presupposes  a  transcendental  law  of  nature  (the  law  of  con- 
tinuity in  nature),  without  which  the  understanding  would  only 
be  misled,  by  following,  it  may  be,  a  path  contrary  to  nature. 
But  this  continuity  of  forms  is,  likewise,  a  mere  Idea,  no  object 
corresponding  to  it  can  be  pointed  out  in  experience ;  the  species 
in  nature  are  actually  divided.  The  law  just  guides  the  under- 
standing in  general,  it  has  no  reference  to  any  particular  objects. 
The  two  principles  (unity  and  difference)  can  easily  be  com- 
bined, but  so  long  as  we  mistake  them  for  objective  knowledge, 
they  cause  discord  and  even  obstacles  in  the  way  of  truth. 

The  Ideas  have  objective  reality  in  a  certain  sense;  not  in 
the  sense  that  we  can  find  anywhere  in  experience  an  object 
corresponding  to  them :  we  cannot  see  anywhere  a  highest  genus 
or  a  lowest  species  or  the  infinite  number  of  intervening 
transition-species.  They  have  objective  reality  in  the  sense  that 
the  understanding  is  their  object,  and  that  they  give  rules  to 
this  understanding.  They  outline  the  procedure  or  method  for 
understanding  to  follow;  they  say:  keep  on  seeking  for  a  high- 
est genus,  for  a  lowest  species,  and  so  on.  In  this  way  they 
have  an  indirect  effect  on  the  objects  of  experience ;  they  bring 
consistency  into  the  functions  of  the  understanding. 

The  only  purpose  of  the  Idea  of  a  Supreme  Being  is  to  pre- 
serve the  greatest  systematic  unity  in  the  empirical  use  of  our 
reason.  The  Idea  of  a  ground  or  cause  of  the  objects  of  our 
experience  helps  us  to  organize  our  knowledge.  The  psycho- 
logical, cosmological,  and  theological  Ideas  are  not  referred 
directly  to  an  object  corresponding  to  them  and  its  qualities, 
yet  by  presupposing  such  an  object  in  Idea  we  are  led  to 
organize  and  extend  our  knowledge  without  ever  contradicting 
it.  Hence,  it  is  a  necessary  maxim  of  reason  to  proceed  accord- 
ing to  such  Ideas.  In  psychology,  we  must  connect  all  inner 
phenomena  as  if  our  soul  were  a  simple  substance  existing 


IMMANUEL  KANT  419 

permanently,  and  with  personal  identity  (in  this  life,  at  least), 
in  order  that  we  may  unify  our  facts.  In  cosmology,  we  must 
pursue  the  conditions  of  all  natural  phenomena  (inner  and 
outer)  in  an  investigation  that  can  never  be  complete,  as  if 
the  series  were  infinite  and  had  no  first  and  highest  member. 
In  theology,  we  must  look  at  everything  that  may  belong  in 
the  connection  of  possible  experience,  as  if  that  experience  formed 
an  absolute  unity  (but  yet  a  unity  thoroughly  dependent  and  al- 
ways conditioned  within  the  world  of  sense).  At  the  same  time, 
also,  we  must  look  at  it  as  if  the  totality  of  all  phenomena 
(the  sense-world)  had  one  supreme  and  all-sufficient  ground 
outside  of  it,  namely  an  independent,  original,  and  creative 
reason.  All  this  does  not  mean :  derive  the  inner  phenomena  of 
the  soul  from  a  simple  thinking  substance,  but :  derive  these  phe- 
nomena from  each  other  according  to  the  Idea  of  a  simple  being : 
that  is,  treat  these  phenomena  in  the  usual  scientific  way,  but 
keep  before  your  mind  the  Idea  that  there  is  unity  in  this  body 
of  phenomena.  It  does  not  mean:  derive  from  the  highest  in- 
telligence the  world-order  and  the  systematic  unity  of  the  same, 
but:  use  the  Idea  of  a  most  wise  Cause  as  a  guide  how  best  to 
employ  the  reason  in  connecting  causes  and  effects  in  the  world, 
for  reason's  own  satisfaction. 

These  Ideas  or  principles,  then,  are  not  mere  fictions  of  the 
brain,  but  are  highly  useful,  indeed  necessary.  We  cannot  think 
of  systematic  unity  without  giving  the  Idea  some  object,  without 
objectifying  it  or  realizing  it,  as  it  were.  But  no  such  object  is 
ever  experienced,  it  is  assumed  problematically, — as  a  problem. 
We  assume  a  God  so  that  we  may  have  some  ground  on  which 
to  fix  the  systematic  unity,  some  focal  point  from  which  and 
to  which  to  proceed.  The  same  thoughts  apply  to  the  Idea  of 
soul-substance.  It  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  thing-in-itself, 
an  entity  of  which  we  can  know  anything,  but  as  something  on 
which  we  can  rest  our  thought,  a  kind  of  focal  point  to  which 
to  refer  all  states  of  consciousness.  If  we  take  the  Idea  for 
what  it  is,  for  a  mere  Idea,  we  shall  not  confuse  empirical  laws 
of  corporeal  phenomena  (which  are  totally  different)  with  the 
explanations  of  what  belongs  to  the  inner  sense,  we  shall  admit 
no  windy  hypotheses  of  generation,  extinotion,  and  palingeneni 
of  souls. 


420  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Human  knowledge  begins  with  percepts,  proceeds  to  con- 
cepts, and  ends  with  Ideas.  It  has  a  priori  sources  of  knowl- 
edge with  respect  to  all  three  elements.  A  complete  criticism 
shows  that  reason,  in  its  speculative  use,  can  never  go  beyond 
the  field  of  possible  experience  with  respect  to  these  elements. 

Among  the  Ideas  which  reason  applies  in  the  contemplation 
of  nature  is  the  Idea  of  purpose,  or  the  teleological  Idea.  This 
Idea  Kant  subjects  to  careful  criticism  in  a  sepa- 
Use  of  rate  Work  called  The  Critique  of  Judgment,  in 

Nature^  ]  which  also  the  nature  of  aesthetic  judgment  is  dis- 
cussed. The  understanding  conceives  every  ex- 
istent whole  of  nature  solely  as  the  effect  of  the  concurrent 
moving  forces  of  its  parts.  In  the  case  of  organic  bodies,  how- 
ever, the  parts  seem  to  depend  on  the  whole,  to  be  determined  by 
the  form  or  plan  or  Idea  of  the  whole.  Every  part  is  both  a 
means  and  an  end  and,  in  cooperating  to  make  the  whole  pos- 
sible, is  determined  by  the  Idea  of  the  whole.  Here,  again, 
we  have  an  antinomy  and  a  dialectic: — the  thesis  stating:  the 
creation  of  all  material  things  is  possible  according  to  mechanical 
laws ;  the  antithesis :  the  creation  of  some  is  not  possible  accord- 
ing to  mechanical  laws.  The  contradiction  is  removed  when  we 
take  these  propositions  not  as  constitutive  principles  but  as  regu- 
lative principles.  In  the  latter  sense,  the  first  invites  us  to  seek 
for  mechanical  causes  in  material  nature  wherever  it  is  possible ; 
the  second  to  search  for  final  causes  or  purposes  in  certain  cases 
(and  even  in  nature  as  a  whole)  where  the  mechanical  explana- 
tion does  not  seem  to  suffice.  It  does  not  follow  from  these 
principles,  if  we  interpret  them  thus,  that  certain  natural  prod- 
ucts cannot  be  explained  mechanically  nor  that  they  can  be 
explained  by  mechanical  causality  alone.  Human  reason  will 
never  be  able  to  discover  a  natural  purpose  by  searching  for 
mechanical  causes.  It  is  not  impossible  that  the  physical- 
mechanical  series  and  the  teleological  series  of  the  same  things 
may  be  united  in  one  principle  in  the  inner  ground  of  nature 
which  is  unknown  to  us.  We  are  compelled  by  the  constitution 
of  our  reason,  by  our  reflective  judgment,  as  Kant  here  calls 
it,  to  view  the  organic  world  as  purposive ;  but  sense-experience 
never  discovers  such  a  purpose  nor  do  we  possess  any  intel- 
lectual intuition  that  might  enable  us  to  see  it.  We  cannot 


IMMANUEL  KANT  421 

assume  a  blind  unconscious  purpose,  for  this  would  be  hylozoism, 
which  means  the  death  of  all  natural  philosophy;  besides,  we 
never  find  such  blind  purposes  in  our  experience ;  the  only  kind 
of  purposes  we  know  are  the  conscious  purposes  of  man.  Kant 
repudiates  vitalism ;  we  must  either  abandon  the  effort  to  deter- 
mine the  cause  of  the  unity  of  the  organism  or  conceive  it  as 
an  intelligent  Being.  The  value  of  the  teleological  Idea  consists 
in  guiding  the  investigator  in  the  study  of  nature ;  it  helps  him 
to  discover  the  purpose  which  an  organ  and  the  smallest  part 
of  the  body  serve  and  by  means  of  what  efficient  causes  the  result 
or  purpose  is  realized.  The  teleological  interpretation  of  nature 
is,  therefore,  an  inevitable  attitude  of  reason,  aroused  by  the 
contemplation  of  certain  phenomenal  forms,  but  it  has  no  legiti- 
mate use  in  experience  except  as  a  working-hypothesis  or  guiding 
principle. 

The  final  purpose  of  nature  in  arranging  our  reason  is  a  moral 
one.    The  whole  interest  of  reason,  whether  speculative  or  prac- 
tical, is  centered  on  three  questions:  What  can  I 
know?    What  ought  I  to  do?    What  may  I  hope   Practical  Use 

for?    We  can  never  have  knowledge  of  the  exist-  of  ,Riffason, 

and  Moral 
ence   of   God,    freedom,   and   immortality    in   the    Theology 

scientific  sense  of  that  term.  The  purely  specu- 
lative interest  in  these  problems,  however,  is  very  small.  Even 
if  all  of  them  were  proved,  they  would  not  help  us  to  make 
any  discoveries  in  the  field  of  natural  science.  They  are  of  no 
use  to  us  in  so  far  as  knowledge  is  concerned;  their  real  value 
is  practical,  ethical.  Now,  our  reason  commands  moral  laws. 
The  moral  laws  are  necessary.  If  they  are,  we  can  reason  theo- 
retically from  them  as  premises  in  a  necessary  way.  The  law 
tells  me  to  act  so  that  I  will  be  deserving  of  happiness;  this 
is  a  necessary  practical  law.  Since  reason  commands  this,  it 
must  follow,  as  a  necessity  of  theoretical  reason,  that  I  may  hope 
for  happiness.  Morality  and  happiness  are  inseparably  con- 
nected, but  they  are  connected  in  Idea  only.  Now,  if  God  is 
the  author  of  the  natural  order,  it  is  possible  to  hope  that  this 
natural  order  is  also  a  moral  order,  or  rather  that  in  such  a 
natural  order  happiness  will  accompany  morality.  Our  reason 
compels  us  to  regard  ourselves  as  belonging  to  a  moral  world- 
order,  in  which  happiness  and  morality  are  connected.  But  the 


422  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

world  of  sense  shows  nothing  but  phenomena,  in  which  such  a 
connection  is  not  revealed.  Therefore,  we  shall  have  to  assume 
a  future  world  in  which  the  connection  does  exist.  God,  there- 
fore, and  a  future  life  are  two  presuppositions  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  principles  of  pure  reason,  cannot  be  separated  from 
the  obligation  (moral  law)  which  reason  imposes  upon  us. 

Moral  theology  inevitably  leads  to  the  concept  of  a  single  all- 
perfect  and  rational  original  Being.  This  Being  must  be  om- 
nipotent, so  that  all  nature  and  its  relation  to  morality  can  be 
subject  to  him;  omniscient,  so  that  he  may  know  the  innermost 
disposition  and  its  moral  worth;  omnipresent,  that  he  may  be 
immediate  to  all  the  needs  which  the  highest  good  of  the  world 
requires ;  eternal,  that  this  harmony  of  nature  and  freedom  may 
never  be  absent.  If  the  world  is  to  harmonize  with  what  our 
practical  reason,  our  moral  use  of  reason,  demands,  it  must  be 
regarded  as  derived  from  an  Idea,  the  Idea  of  the  highest  good. 
Our  practical  reason  demands  the  union  of  virtue  and  happiness ; 
this  cannot  be  unless  we  look  upon  the  world  as  having  a  moral 
purpose, — a  moral  Being  behind  it  that  realizes  the  purpose.  In 
this  way  speculative  reason  and  practical  reason  become  united. 
And  in  this  way,  the  study  of  nature  tends  to  assume  the  form 
of  a  teleological  system,  and  to  become  physico-theology.  In 
other  words,  we  are  led  to  teleology  and  God  through  the 
moral  law. 

Pure  reason,  therefore,  in  its  practical  employment,  that  is, 
as  moral  reason,  connects  a  knowledge, — which  mere  speculation 
can  only  conjecture,  but  not  guarantee, — with  our  highest  prac- 
tical interest.  It  thereby  makes  it  not  a  demonstrated  dogma, 
but  an  absolutely  necessary  presupposition  for  its  essential 
purposes. 

Kant's  moral  philosophy,  which  he  presents  in  his  Grund- 
legung  zur  Metaphysik  def  Sitten,  Kritik  der  praktischen 
Vernunft,  and  Metaphysik  der  Sitten,  may  be  re- 
garded as  an  attempt  to  judge  the  quarrel  between 
intuitionism  and  empiricism,  idealism  and  hedonism.  His  fun- 
damental problem  is  to  discover  the  meaning  of  goodness,  right 
and  wrong,  or  duty,  and  the  implications  of  our  moral  knowl- 
edge; how  shall  we  define  duty  and  what  follows  from  man's 
moral  nature? 


IMMANUEL  KANT  423 

Rousseau  had  taught  him  that  nothing  is  absolutely  good 
in  this  world  or  out  of  it  except  a  good  will.  A  will  is  good 
when  it  is  determined  by  respect  for  the  moral  law,  or  the  con- 
sciousness of  duty.  An  act  that  is  done  from  inclination,  say 
from  self-love  or  even  sympathy,  is  not  moral;  to  be  that,  it 
must  be  done  in  the  face  of  such  impulses,  from  sheer 
respect  for  law.  Moreover,  the  Tightness  or  wrongness  of 
an  act  does  not  depend  on  its  effects  or  consequences;  it  is 
immaterial  whether  happiness  or  perfection  results,  so  long 
as  the  motive  of  the  agent  is  good.  Pure  respect  for  the 
law  is  the  sublime  test.  The  sentimental  morality  of  "  the  vol- 
unteers of  duty  "  was  as  distasteful  to  Kant  as  the  utility- 
ethics.  The  moral  law  is  a  categorical  imperative ;  it  commands 
categorically,  unconditionally;  it  does  not  say:  Do  this  if  you 
would  be  happy  or  successful  or  perfect,  but :  Do  it  because  it  is 
your  duty  to  do  it  (duty  for  duty's  sake).  It  does  not  concern 
itself  with  particular  acts  or  even  with  general  rules,  but  lays 
down  a  fundamental  principle :  Always  act  so  that  you  can  will 
the  maxim  or  determining  principle  of  your  action  to  become 
universal  law;  act  so  that  you  can  will  that  everybody  shall 
follow  the  principle  of  your  action.  This  law  is  a  sure  test 
of  what  is  right  and  wrong.  For  example,  you  cannot  will  that 
everybody  should  make  lying  promises,  for  if  everybody  did, 
nobody  would  believe  anybody,  and  lying  promises  would  defeat 
themselves.  A  rational  being  cannot  really  will  a  contradiction, 
and  it  would  be  a  contradiction  to  will  a  lying  promise.  Nor 
can  such  a  being  will  to  disregard  the  welfare  of  others,  for  if 
such  conduct  became  universal,  he  himself  might  some  day  be 
treated  inhumanly,  and  he  could  not  will  to  be  a  member  of 
such  an  inhuman  society. 

This  law  or  categorical  imperative  is  a  universal  and  neces- 
sary law,  a  priori,  inherent  in  reason  itself.  It  is  present  in  the 
commonest  man ;  though  he  may  not  be  clearly  conscious  of  it, 
it  governs  his  moral  judgments;  it  is  his  standard  or  criterion 
of  right  and  wrong.  Implied  in  this  law,  or  rather  identical 
with  it,  is  another  law:  Act  so  as  to  treat  humanity,  whether 
in  thine  own  person  or  in  that  of  any  other,  in  every  case  as 
an  end  withal  and  never  as  a  means.  Every  man  conceives  his 
own  existence  as  an  end  in  itself,  as  having  worth,  and  must 


424  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

therefore  regard  the  existence  of  every  rational  creature  in  the 
same  way.  Here  we  have  the  humanitarian  ideal  which  was 
preached  by  the  Stoics  and  primitive  Christianity,  and  which 
played  such  an  important  role  in  the  ethical  and  political  theories 
of  the  eighteenth  century. 

The  rational  will,  therefore,  imposes  upon  itself  universal 
laws,  laws  that  hold  for  all  and  are  acceptable  to  all.  If  every- 
body obeyed  the  law  of  reason,  a  society  of  rational  beings  would 
result,  a  kingdom  of  ends,  as  Kant  calls  it,  a  society  organized 
by  rational  purposes.  The  categorical  imperative,  in  other 
words,  implicitly  commands  a  perfect  society ;  the  ideal  of  a  ra- 
tional realm  of  spirits  is  necessarily  implied  in  it.  Therefore, 
every  rational  being  ought  to  act  as  if  he  were  by  his  maxims, 
his  universal  principles,  a  legislating  member  of  a  universal  king- 
dom of  ends.  He  is  both  sovereign  and  subject:  he  lays  down 
the  law  and  acknowledges  the  law.  By  virtue  of  his  moral  na- 
ture, he  is  a  member  of  a  spiritual  kingdom ;  in  recognizing  the 
authority  of  the  law  over  him,  he  recognizes  the  ideal  world  as 
the  highest  good.  +-~z~ 

A  man  who  is  governed  by  the  moral  law  and  not  by  his  im- 
pulses, his  selfish  desires,  his  appetites,  is  free.  The  brute  is 
the  play-ball  of  its  wants  and  instincts;  through  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  moral  law  within  him,  man  can  resist  his  sensuous 
appetites,  all  of  which  aim  at  selfish  pleasure.  And  because  he 
can  suppress  his  sense-nature  he  is  free:  he  ought,  therefore  he 
can.  The  moral  imperative  is  the  expression  of  man's  real  self, 
of  the  very  principle  of  his  being.  It  is  his  innermost  self  that 
expresses  itself  in  the  moral  law;  the  moral  law  is  his  com- 
mand, the  command  of  every  rational  being.  He  imposes  the 
law  upon  himself :  this  is  his  autonomy. 

The  fact  of  the  moral  imperative  indicates  the  freedom  of  the 
will.  If  it  were  not  for  our  moral  nature,  or  practical  reason, 
a  proof  of  free  will  would  be  out  of  the  question.  Our  ordi- 
nary scientific  knowledge  deals  with  the  appearances  of  things, 
with  the  spatial-temporal  order,  and  in  this  everything  is  ar- 
ranged according  to  necessary  laws :  the  occurrences  in  the  phe- 
nomenal world  are  absolutely  determined,  as  we  have  seen.  If 
this  temporal,  spatial,  and  causal  order  were  the  real  world, 
freedom  would  be  impossible.  But  Kant  teaches  that  the  world 


IMMANUEL  KANT  425 

as  it  appears  to  our  senses  is  not  the  real  world.  Hence  free- 
dom is  possible.  But  whether  it  is  actual  or  not,  we  should  never 
know  if  it  were  not  for  the  moral  law  which  points  us  to  a  time- 
less, spaceless  universe,  to  the  intelligible  world  of  free  beings. 
In  other  words,  the  moral  consciousness  of  man,  his  knowledge 
of  right  and  wrong,  gives  him  an  insight  into  a  realm  that  is 
different  from  the  world  of  matter  presented  to  the  senses. 

The  moral  consciousness  implies  the  freedom  of  the  will.  It 
also  implies  the  existence  of  God  and  the  immortality  of  the 
soul,  which  notions  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  had  shattered 
as  scientifically  demonstrable  dogmas,  but  had  left  as  possibili- 
ties. The  moral  proof  for  the  existence  of  God  runs  as  follows. 
The  categorical  imperative  commands  an  absolutely  good  will, 
a  virtuous  will,  a  holy  will.  Reason  tells  us  that  such  a  will 
is  deserving  of  happiness :  a  good  man  ought  to  be  happy ;  hence, 
the  highest  good  must  consist  in  virtue  and  happiness,  for  vir- 
tue without  happiness  would  not  be  a  complete  good.  But 
virtue  and  happiness  do  not  go  together  in  this  world,  the  vir- 
tuous man  does  not  necessarily  achieve  happiness.  Reason  tells 
us  there  ought  to  be  a  Being  who  apportions  happiness  accord- 
ing to  desert.  In  order  to  do  this,  such  a  Being  must  have  abso- 
lute intelligence,  or  be  omniscient:  he  must  see  through  us;  he 
must  have  our  moral  ideals,  that  is,  be  all-good;  and  he  must 
have  absolute  power  to  make  the  connection  between  virtue  and 
happiness,  or  be  omnipotent.  Such  an  all-wise,  all-good,  and 
all-powerful  Being  is  God.  The  proof  for  immortality  rests  on 
the  same  premise :  The  moral  law  commands  holiness  or  an  abso- 
lutely good  will.  Since  the  moral  law  is  a  deliverance  of  reason, 
what  it  enjoins  must  be  realizable.  But  we  cannot  reach  holi- 
ness at  any  moment  of  existence;  hence  an  endless  time,  an 
eternal  progress  towards  this  perfection  is  necessary.  In  other 
words,  the  soul  must  be  immortal. 

In  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  Kant  rejects  all  the  old  argu- 
ments for  the  freedom  of  the  will,  the  existence  of  God,  and  the 
immortality  of  the  soul ;  the  result  of  the  Critique  of  Pure  Rea- 
son  is  negative  in  this  respect.  In  the  Critique  of  Practical 
Reason  he  bases  all  these  notions  on  the  moral  law.  Man  is 
free,  man  is  immortal,  and  there  is  a  God :  all  these  truths  are 
necessary  implications  of  the  rational  moral  law  within  us.  The 


426  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

moral  law  guarantees  freedom,  immortality,  and  God;  religion 
is  based  on  morality. 

This  teaching  is  closely  connected  with  the  Christian  concep- 
tion; so  Kant  himself  tells  us.  (1)  Morality  demands  holiness, 
perfection,  an  absolutely  good  will.  (2)  Man,  however,  cannot 
completely  realize  this  ideal.  Only  God  is  perfect  and  holy; 
man  has  strong  desires,  hence  a  propensity  to  sin.  All  he  can 
do  is  to  respect  the  law,  to  attain  to  a  dutiful  disposition.  (3) 
The  highest  good  can  be  realized  only  in  the  life  to  come.  (4) 
A  character  that  is  perfectly  in  accord  with  the  moral  law, 
a  perfectly  moral  man,  has  infinite  worth  and  deserves  all  pos- 
sible happiness.  (5)  But  the  moral  law  does  not  promise  hap- 
piness ;  we  must  do  the  right  because  it  is  the  right,  whether  we 
are  happy  or  not.  Obedience  to  morality  does  not  guarantee 
happiness.  (6)  Our  reason,  however,  tells  us  that  a  moral  man 
is  worthy  of  happiness.  Hence,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
there  is  a  Being  who  will  apportion  happiness  to  the  good  accord- 
ing to  their  deserts.  A  world  in  which  such  apportionment  is 
made  is  the  kingdom  of  God.  (7)  But  happiness  can  never  be  the 
motive  to  moral  conduct.  We  must  do  right,  not  for  the  sake 
of  eternal  happiness,  but  for  the  right's  sake.  It  is  such  doc- 
trines as  these  that  have  won  for  Kant  the  title  of  the  philosopher 
of  Protestantism. 

57.    SUCCESSORS  OF  KANT 

The  new  philosophy  suggested  a  number  of  problems.  The 
first,  and  perhaps  not  the  least  difficult,  task  consisted  in  under- 
The  Problems  stan(^n£  the  nature  of  "  the  Copernican  revolu- 
tion. ' '  The  literature  of  the  age  shows  how  unsuc- 
cessful were  many  of  the  initial  efforts  to  grasp  its  meaning. 
Hamann  designated  Kant  as  a  Prussian  Hume,  Garve  identified 
his  teaching  with  Berkeleyan  idealism;  some  perceived  in  it  a 
subtle  artifice  for  destroying  the  historical  foundations  of  reli- 
gion and  for  proving  naturalism,  others  suspected  it  as  a  new 
support  for  the  declining  faith-philosophy.  In  order  to  assist 
in  a  clearer  understanding  of  the  subject,  Kant  wrote  his 
Prolegomena  (1783),  Johannes  Schultz  published  his  Erlau- 
terungen  (1784),  Reinhold  his  Letters  on  ike  Kantian  Philoso- 


SUCCESSORS  OF  KANT  427 

phy  (1786-1787),  and  Hufeland  and  Schiitz  established  Die 
Jenaer  Allgemeine  Litter aturzeitung  (1785)  as  the  organ  of  the 
critical  movement.  Jena  became  the  home  of  the  new  school, 
and  through  the  efforts  of  Schiller,  Reinhold,  Fichte,  Schelling, 
and  Hegel,  who  taught  there,  philosophy  became  one  of  the  most 
honored  subjects  of  study  in  Germany. 

Among  the  other  tasks  that  confronted  the  successors  of  Kant 
were  the  development  of  his  epistemology,  the  unification  of  its 
principles,  the  solution  of  the  problems  following  from  his 
dualism  between  the  intelligible  and  phenomenal  worlds,  free- 
dom and  mechanism,  form  and  matter,  knowledge  and  faith, 
practical  reason  and  theoretical  reason;  and  the  removal  of  the 
inconsistencies  introduced  by  the  notion  of  the  thing-in-itself. 
Another  work  to  be  undertaken  was  the  construction  of  a  uni- 
versal system  on  the  critical  foundation  laid  by  Kant;  this 
became  the  chief  occupation  of  the  most  famous  successors  of 
the  great  reformer:  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel. 

Kant  had  examined  the  judgments  of  mathematics,  natural 
science,  and  metaphysics,  the  moral,  aesthetic,  and  teleological 
judgments,  and  had  pointed  out  the  presupposi- 
tions, preconditions,  or  principles  on  which  they  Idealism  and 
all  rest.  The  question  suggested  itself,  indeed  was  i^itself^ 
frequently  asked  by  Kant  himself,  whether  there 
was  not  a  common  root  in  which  these  principles  had  their 
origin  and  from  which  they  might,  perhaps,  be  derived.  The 
thought  of  an  ideal  system  of  judgments,  or  of  an  interrelated 
system  of  knowledge  held  together  by  a  fundamental  and  abso- 
lutely certain  principle,  took  possession  of  some  of  the  think- 
ers of  the  age  and  led  in  time  to  the  attempt  to  construct  an 
all-embracing  system  of  idealistic  metaphysics.  But  before  this 
stage  was  reached,  a  great  deal  of  work  had  to  be  done  in  the 
way  of  clearing  away  the  difficulties  presented  by  the  Kantian 
Critique  of  Pure  Reason. 

K.  L.  Reinhold  (1758-1823)  in  his  Versuch  einer  neuen 
Theorie  des  menschlichen  VorstelliDigsvcrmogens,  1789,  seeks 
to  derive  the  faculties  of  sensibility  and  understanding  as  well 
as  the  categories  from  a  single  principle,  the  faculty  of  repre- 
sentation (Vorstellung} ,  which  is  both  receptive  and  active,  or 
spontaneous :  it  receives  matter  and  produces  form.  The  object, 


428  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

as  it  exists  independently  of  representation,  is  the  thing-in-itself, 
which  is  unknowable.  G.  E.  Schulze,  in  his  JEnesidemus* 
1792,  attacks  the  new  critical  philosophy  as  presented  by  Kant 
and  Reinhold ;  instead  of  doing  away  with  skepticism,  he  thinks, 
it  restores  it,  leaving  philosophy  exactly  where  Hume  had  left  it. 
It  denies  the  possibility  of  knowledge  of  the  thing-in-itself,  and 
yet  assumes  its  existence  and  applies  categories  to  it,  after  having 
declared  that  these  are  valid  only  in  the  world  of  experience.  The 
only  way  to  overcome  the  skepticism  and  the  contradictions  im- 
plied in  the  notion  of  the  thing-in-itself,  according  to  S.  Maimon 
(Versuch  uber  die  Transcendentalphilosophie,  1790),  is  to  abol- 
ish the  thing-in-itself  as  inconceivable  and  impossible.  The 
cause  and  origin  of  the  given,  or  a  posteriori  element  in  con- 
sciousness, is  unknown  to  us,  an  irrational  quantity,  a  surd,  a 
problem  that  can  never  be  entirely  solved.  Hence,  we  can  have 
no  complete  knowledge  of  experience;  we  do  not  produce  the 
objects  of  our  experience,  but  we  do  produce  the  objects  of  our 
thought,  which,  therefore,  are  the  only  objects  of  our  knowledge. 
S.  Beck,  influenced  by  the  criticisms  leveled  against  the  Critique, 
interprets  it  in  the  idealistic  sense :  either  the  thing-in-itself  must 
be  rejected  or  the  Critique  contradicts  itself  (Einzig  moglicher 
Standpunkt  aus  welchem  die  kritische  Philosophie  beurteilt  wer- 
den  muss,  1796).  Kant  could  not  have  been  the  author  of  such 
a  contradictory  philosophy.  The  only  possible  standpoint  is 
the  view  that  what  is  given  in  consciousness  is  the  product  of 
consciousness.  Without  idealism  there  can  be  no  Critique. 

The  poet  J.  G.  Herder  (1744-1803;  Metakritik,  1799,  Ideen 
zur  Philosophie  der  Geschichte  der  Menschheit,  1784-1791)  op- 
poses the  Kantian  dualism  of  mental  faculties  and 
theitNew°f        emPhasizes  the  unity  of  soul-life ;  thought  and  will, 
Philosophy      understanding  and  sensation  spring  from  a  com- 
mon ground.     All  of  these   factors  cooperate   in 
knowledge.     He   holds   that    rationalism    with    its    conceptual 
method  (the  Aufkldrung)  cannot  do  justice  to  "  living  reality/' 
and  interprets  nature  and  mind  organically  and  historically. 
God  reveals  himself  in  nature  and  in  man,  particularly  in  the 
religion,  art,  and  life  of  peoples  (pantheism).     The  history  of 
mankind  is  a  process  of  evolution  towards  the  ideal  of  humanity, 
*  Iteprint  of  this  book,  edited  by  Liebert,  1911. 


SUCCESSORS  OF  KANT  429 

;hat  is,  the  harmonious  development  of  all  human  capacities  in 
•elation  to  the  environment.  Our  rational  capacity  should  be 
educated  and  fashioned  into  reason,  our  more  refined  senses  into 
irt,  our  impulses  into  genuine  freedom  and  beauty,  our  motives 
nto  love  of  humanity. 

F.  H.  Jacobi  (1743-1819)  declares  that  the  Critique  logically 
;nds  in  subjective  idealism,  and,  therefore,  rejects  its  conclu- 
dons.  Such  a  "  system  of  absolute  subjectivity,"  or  nihilism, 
is  he  calls  it,  seems  to  him  incapable  of  grasping  the  ultimate 
•ealities, — God  and  freedom, — upon  which  his  heart  is  set. 
For  the  critical  philosophy,  objects  are  phenomena,  ideas, 
Ireams,  ' '  specters  through  and  through " :  it  can  never  be  freed 
Prom  the  web  of  ideas  into  which  it  spins  itself  and  find  the  true 
essence  of  things.  Dogmatic  rationalism,  on  the  other  hand, 
3f  which  the  mathematical  method  of  Spinoza  furnishes  the 
most  consistent  example,  Jacobi  thinks,  is  equally  unable  to  reach 
truth.  According  to  it,  everything  is  determined,  and  what  has 
QO  ground  is  inexplicable,  irrational,  and  non-existent:  it  cul- 
minates in  atheism  and  fatalism.  It  operates  with  universal  ab- 
stractions and  must  of  necessity  miss  the  living  moving  spon- 
taneity of  freedom  and  God.  nationalism  exaggerates  the  claims 
of  the  universal  over  against  the  individual,  the  claims  of  de- 
ductive inference  against  immediate  certainty,  the  claims  of 
rationality  against  faith,  and  narrows  the  notion  of  experience 
to  include  only  sense-experience.  Jacobi  escapes  the  alleged  skep- 
ticism of  idealism  and  the  fatalism  and  atheism  of  rationalism 
by  basing  himself  on  feeling,  belief,  or  faith,  in  which  he  finds 
an  instinctive  form  of  truth.  We  are  immediately  certain  of 
the  existence  of  things-in-themselves ;  this  faith  is  made  possible 
only  by  their  direct  revelation;  it  springs  from  our  direct  per- 
ception of  the  objects.  We  come  face  to  face  with  the  real,  and 
not  merely  with  ideas,  as  idealism  holds;  ideas  are  mere  copies 
of  originals  which  we  immediately  perceive.  No  existence  of 
any  kind  can  ever  be  demonstrated  by  reason  with  its  abstract 
principles.  Just  as  we  immediately  experience  external  objects, 
we  experience  our  own  being,  the  self,  the  beautiful,  the  true, 
and  the  good,  free  causality,  and  God.  Kant  and  Jacobi  both 
oppose  naturalism  with  its  atheism  and  fatalism,  and  strive  to 
save  God,  freedom,  and  immortality.  With  this  end  in  view, 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

both  discredit  the  discursive  understanding  as  a  source  of  ulti- 
mate truth;  both  are  in  this  sense  anti-intellectualists :  we  can 
have  no  "  knowledge  "  of  things-in-themselves.  Yet,  both  seek 
to  give  naturalism  its  due,  Kant  by  turning  over  to  it  the  entire 
phenomenal  world,  Jacobi  by  setting  up  a  world  of  real  objects 
which,  however,  is  not  completely  subject  to  determinism.  But 
Kant  remains  a  rationalist  in  his  effort  to  derive  God,  freedom, 
and  immortality  as  implications  of  a  rational  moral  law,  while 
Jacobi  finds  their  reality  directly  guaranteed  by  certain  inner 
experiences,  which  carry  with  them  the  feeling  of  immediate 
certainty  or  faith.  Kant's  faith  is  a  rational  faith  grounded 
on  practical  or  moral  certainty,  that  is,  on  man's  knowledge 
of  right  and  wrong.  Jacobi 's  faith  rests  on  direct  experience  of 
the  supersensible :  the  ultimate  realities  are  immediately  revealed 
to  us  in  our  consciousness ;  here  we  come  face  to  face  with  spirit, 
freedom,  and  divine  Being:  we  believe  in  these  things  because 
we  experience  them  directly.  With  Hamann  and  Herder,  Jacobi 
broadens  the  notion  of  experience  to  include  the  vision  of  reali- 
ties which  the  critical  philosophy  had  placed  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  human  understanding. 

Jacobi's  Brief e  uber  die  Lehren  Spinozas,  1785;  D.  Hume  uber  den 
Glauben,  1787;  Introduction  to  his  works.  Complete  works  in  6  vols., 
1812-1825.  Wilde,  Jacobi;  Crawford,  The  Philosophy  of  Jacobi; 
Harms,  Uber  die  Lehre  von  F.  H.  Jacobi;  Levy-Bruhl,  La  philosophic 
de  Jacobi;  Kuhlmann,  Die  Erkenntnistheorie  F.  H.  Jacobis;  Schmidt, 
Jacobi. 

In  his  Neue  oder  psychologische  Kritik  der  Vernunft  (1807), 
Jacob  Fries  (1773-1843)  seeks  to  combine  the  teachings  of  Kant 
and  Jacobi.  He  bases  the  critical  philosophy  on  psychology, 
substituting  self-observation  for  the  transcendental  method.  The 
principles  of  reason,  which  Kant  seeks  to  prove  a  priori,  are, 
according  to  Fries,  immediately  known  in  consciousness:  we 
become  directly  aware  of  their  certainty  in  ourselves.  Only  thai 
which  is  sense-perceived  can  be  known;  we  cannot  know  the 
supersensible,  or  things-in-themselves ;  they  are  objects  of  f aitt 
which  satisfy  the  demands  of  the  heart. 

A  neo-Friesian  school,  of  which  L.  Nelson  is  a  prominent  mem 
ber,  is  publishing  monographs  on  Fries.     (See  Elsenhans, 
und  Kant.) 


JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE  451 


GERMAN  IDEALISM 

58.   JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE 

As  we  have  seen,  the  interest  of  the  contemporaries  and 
immediate  successors  of  Kant  was  centered  upon  a  number  of 
problems:  how  to  bring  unity  into  the  system  of 
knowledge  or  to  find  a  common  basis  for  the  prin-  p£^a  1jfan 
ciples  of  natural  science,  morals,  aesthetics,  and 
teleology;  what  to  do  with  the  thing-in-itself ;  how  to  justify 
the  Ideas  of  God,  freedom,  and  immortality.  It  now  seemed 
desirable  to  comprehend  in  the  unity  of  a  system  the  various 
tendencies  of  the  age:  critical  idealism,  Spinozisin,  rationalism, 
the  faith-philosophy,  as  well  as  the  notion  of  development  which 
occupied  a  prominent  place  in  French  thought  and  in  the  writ- 
ings of  Herder. 

Kant  had  opposed  the  entire  naturalistic  world-view  with  its 
mechanism,  fatalism,  atheism,  egoism,  and  hedonism,  and  had 
made  room  for  a  rational  faith  in  human  values  by  limiting  the 
discursive  understanding  to  the  field  of  phenomena.  In  the 
world  of  sense-experience,  the  object  of  natural  science,  law 
reigns  supreme:  every  event,  human  action  included,  is  a  link 
in  the  causal  chain.  There  is  no  scientific  knowledge  possible 
outside  of  this  domain:  so  far  as  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  is 
concerned,  the  thing-in-itself  is  beyond  the  pale  of  the  knowable. 
The  perusal  of  the  other  Critiques,  however,  shows  us  that  the 
notion  of  the  thing-in-itself  develops  as  we  advance  in  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  critical  system.  Conceived,  at  first,  as  a  mere  ab- 
straction, a  Gedankending,  it  becomes  a  necessary  Idea  of  rea- 
son, a  regulative  principle  expressing  the  rational  demand  for 
unity  (soul,  world,  God).  The  Idea  of  freedom  is  found  to  be 
a  possible  or  thinkable  ground  of  all  things;  the  moral  law, 
however,  demonstrates  the  reality  of  this  Idea  and  vouchsafes  the 
existence  of  God,  a  spiritual  kingdom,  and  immortality.  The 
thing-in-itself  which  began  as  an  abstraction  is  interpreted  in 
the  sequel  as  freedom,  practical  reason,  will,  and  made  the 
ground  of  the  theoretical  reason.  There  is,  then,  a  hfgher  kind 
of  truth  than  that  offered  by  scientific  intelligence;  the  moral 


4S2  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

law  within  us  is  a  sure  guarantee  of  the  existence  of  the  super- 
sensible world,  which  is  closed  against  the  mathematical-physical 
methods  of  the  understanding.  But  Kant  was  cautious  in  deal- 
ing with  the  practical  possibilities  suggested  by  the  categorical 
imperative ;  he  hesitated  to  transcend  the  limits  of  experience  and 
refused  to  lead  his  followers  into  the  promised  land.  It  could 
not  be  reached  through  the  theoretical  reason,  and  he  saw  no 
possibility  of  entering  it  through  the  gates  of  immediate  experi- 
ence: the  closer  we  come  to  immediacy,  according  to  him,  the 
nearer  we  are  to  chaos  and  the  farther  from  truth:  percepts 
without  concepts  are  blind.  And  we  do  not  possess  the  power  of 
intellectual  intuition  which  would  enable  us  to  meet  the  thing- 
in-itself  face  to  face.  Nor  was  the  sober-minded  criticist  ready 
to  seek  in  sentimentalism  or  mysticism  the  approach  to  the  heart 
of  reality ;  indeed,  he  had  a  contempt  for  extravagances  of  this 
sort  in  philosophy,  fpr  such  they  seemed  to  him.  And  yet,  in 
spite  of  all  his  rationalism,  there  is  an  element  of  faith  in  his 
method :  faith  in  the  moral  imperative  saves  us  from  agnosticism, 
materialism,  and  determinism:  we  know  because  we  believe  in 
the  moral  law.  If  it  were  not  for  that,  we  should  not  only  know 
nothing  of  freedom  and  the  ideal  order,  but  also  be  helpless  to 
free  ourselves  from  the  mechanism  of  nature :  it  is  moral  truth 
that  both  sets  us  free  and  proves  our  freedom.  It  was  this  phase 
of  the  new  philosophy  that  particularly  appealed  to  the  new  gen- 
eration; it  offered  an  escape  from  the  causal  universe  without, 
apparently,  sacrificing  the  legitimate  claims  of  knowledge. 
Spinozism  had  become  popular  in  Germany  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  eighteenth  century  and  was  regarded  by  many  think- 
ers, even  by  those  who  rejected  it,  as  the  most  consistent  dog- 
matic system,  indeed  as  the  last  word  of  speculative  metaphysics :: 
Lessing,  Herder,  and  Goethe  had  been  attracted  to  it,  and  Fichte 
had  heroically  accepted  its  rigid  determinism  as  inevitable,  be- 
fore his  acquaintance  with  the  critical  philosophy.  It  was  the 
Kantian  solution  of  the  controversy  between  the  head  and  the 
heart  and  the  idealistic  world- view  which  it  vouchsafed  tha-; 
became  popular  in  German  philosophy  and  formed  the  starting- 
point  of  what  is  called  Post-Kantian  idealism,  the  chief  repre- 
sentatives of  which  are  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel.* 

*  Cf.  Thilly,  Romanticism  and  Rationali&m,  PMl  Rev.,  March,  1913. 


JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE  433 

Kant  had  reached  his  standpoint  by  a  laborious  critical  ex- 
amination of  scientific,  moral,  and  metaphysical  knowledge;  his 
successors  make  the  intelligible  world,  or  freedom,  to  which  the 
moral  law  points,  the  starting-point  of  their  speculations:  the 
ideal  or  supersensible  world,  the  world  of  mind  or  spirit  (Geist), 
is  the  real  world.  With  this  self-determining  spiritual  activity 
as  the  principle,  they  seek  to  solve  all  the  problems  of  philosophy, 
to  account  for  knowledge  and  experience,  to  explain  nature  and 
history  and  human  institutions.  The  ideal  principle,  they  tell 
us,  brings  unity  into  our  knowledge,  unifies  the  categories  and 
theoretical  and  practical  reason,  enables  us  to  overcome  the  dual- 
ism between  mechanism  and  teleology,  and  removes  the  incon- 
sistencies in  the  Kantian  thing-in-itself.  We  can  understand 
reality  only  when  we  interpret  it  in  the  light  of  self-determining 
reason;  consequently,  reason  understands  the  world  only  when 
it  understands  itself.  Hence  the  importance  of  the  science 
of  knowledge,  or  Wissenschaftslehre,  as  Fichte  called  it,  in  the 
systems  of  the  Post-Kantians :  the  discovery  of  the  correct 
method  of  knowledge  will  solve  the  problem  of  metaphysics; 
indeed,  philosophy  is  Wissenschaftslehre.  Hence,  also,  philoso- 
phy is  the  absolute  science,  which  explains  everything  and  alone 
can  explain  everything:  mere  empirical  knowledge  of  facts  is 
not  real  knowledge,  and  the  empirical  sciences  of  nature  and 
history  are  not  true  sciences.  If  to  know  means  to  comprehend 
the  active,  living,  synthetic,  spiritual  process  of  reality,  a  method 
that  limits  itself  to  phenomena  in  a  spatial-temporal-causal 
series  cannot  be  knowledge:  on  this  point  Fichte,  Schelling, 
Schleiermacher,  and  Hegel  are  agreed.  They  agree  also  in  their 
conception  of  reality  as  a  process  of  evolution,  in  the  organic 
and  historical  view  of  things,  which  Lessing,  Herder,  Winckel- 
mann,  and  Goethe  taught ;  but  differ  in  their  methods  of  reach- 
ing  a  knowledge  of  it,  as  we  shall  see. 

Fichte  Js  basal  thought,  the  one  which  he  regards  as  the  key- 
stone of  the  critical  philosophy,  is  the  notion  of  freedom,  the 
idea  that  the  will,  or  ego,  is  not  a  thing  among 
things,  a  mere  link  in  the  causal  chain,  but  free 
self-determining  activity.  Only  such  activity  is 
truly  real,  all  else  is  dead  passive  existence:  it  is  the  principle 
of  life  and  mind,  of  knowledge  and  conduct,  indeed,  of  our  en- 


434  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tire  world  of  experience,  the  moving  power  in  all  progress  and 
civilization.  It  is  the  ground  on  which  knowledge  rests,  the 
unifying  principle  of  the  theoretical  understanding,  at  which 
Kant  had  hinted  and  which  Reinhold  sought,  and  the  common 
root  of  theoretical  and  practical  reason.  The  study  of  knowl- 
edge will,  therefore,  prove  to  be  the  most  important  subject  of 
philosophical  inquiry,  and  to  this  Fichte  constantly  addressed 
himself  during  his  strenuous  career.  The  Wissenschaftslehre 
is  the  key  to  all  knowledge :  in  it  he  offers  a  comprehensive  and 
detailed  account  of  the  conditions,  principles,  or  presupposi- 
tions of  both  theoretical  and  practical  reason. 


Johann  Gottlieb  Fichte  was  born  in  Saxony,  1762,  the  son  of  a 
poor  weaver.  Through  the  generosity  of  a  nobleman,  who  was  im- 
pressed with  the  child's  talent,  he  obtained  the  means  to  attend  the 
schools  at  Meissen  and  Schulpforta.  He  studied  theology  at  Jena, 
Leipzig,  and  Wittenberg  (1780-1784),  and  gave  private  lessons,  often 
interrupting  his  university  work  for  long  periods  of  time,  in  order 
to  gain  his  livelihood  as  a  tutor  (1784-1793).  In  1790,  at  the  request 
of  some  students  who  desired  him  to  instruct  them  in  the  new  critical 
philosophy,  he  began  the  study  of  Kant,  which  revolutionized  his 
thought  and  determined  the  direction  of  his  life.  In  1794  he  was 
called  to  a  professorship  at  Jena,  then  the  intellectual  center  of 
Germany,  and  became  the  leader  of  the  new  idealism,  the  aim  of  which 
was  the  reform  of  life  no  less  than  the  reform  of  science  and  philosophy. 
During  the  Jena  period  (1794-1799)  Fichte  wrote  a  number  of  works 
on  the  Science  of  Knowledge,  Natural  Right,  and  Ethics.  The  pub- 
lication of  an  essay,  On  the  Ground  of  our  Belief  in  a  Divine  World- 
Order  (1798),  in  which  he  seemed  to  identify  God  with  the  moral 
world-order,  provoked  the  charge  of  atheism.  He  resigned  his  pro- 
fessorship and  went  to  Berlin,  where  he  developed  his  philosophy  and 
presented  it  in  popular  form  in  lectures  and  in  books.  In  1807-1808 
he  delivered  his  celebrated  Addresses  to  the  German  Nation,  in  which 
he  appealed  to  the  patriotism  of  his  people  while  Napoleon's  army 
was  still  occupying  Berlin.  He  became  professor  of  philosophy  in 
the  newly  founded  University  of  Berlin,  in  1809,  and  served  tie 
institution  ably  and  faithfully  until  his  death  in  1814. 

Versuch  einer  Kritik  aller  Offenbarung,  1792;  Grundlage  dcr 
gesammten  Wissenschaftslehre,  1794;  Grundlage  des  Naturrechts,  1796  ; 
Das  System  der  Sittenlehre,  1798;  Die  Bestimmung  des  Mensche-i, 
1800;  Die  Anweisurng  zum  seligen  Leben,  1801;  Reden  an  die  deutscl  e 
Nation,  1808- 

Posthumous  works  ed.  by  J.  H.  Fichte,  3  vols.,  1834;  complete  worl:s 
ed.  by  J.  H.  Fichte,  8  vols.,  1845-1846;  selected  works,  by  Medicus; 
Letters,  by  Weinhold,  1862,  J.  H.  Fichte,  1830.  Translations:  Fichte'a 
Popular  Works  (Nature  of  Scholar,  Vocation  of  Man,  Religion,  Char- 
acteristics of  Present  Age),  by  Smith;  Science  of  Knowledge  (Co'.i- 


JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE  435 

ception  of  the  Science  of  Knowledge,  part  of  Grundlage,  the  Sketch 
of  1795,  and  minor  essays).  Science  of  Eights,  and  System  of  Ethics, 
by  Kroeger;  other  works  in  Journal  of  Speculative  Philosophy,  by 
Kroeger;  Vocation  of  Man  and  Addresses  to  German  Nation  in  German 
Classics,  vol.  V. 

Monographs  by  Adamson,  Everett,  Medicus,  Loewe,  X.  Leon,  Fischer ; 
Thompson,  Unity  of  Fichte's  Doctrine  of  Knowledge;  Talbot,  Funded 
mental  Principle  of  Fichte's  Philosophy;  Raich,  Fichte:  seine  Ethik, 
etc.;  Zimmer,  Fichtes  Eeligionsphilosophie ;  Lask,  Fichtes  Idealismus 
und  die  Geschichte;  Kabitz,  Entwicklungsgeschichte  der  fichteschen 
Wissenschaftslehre.  See  also  end  of  bibliography,  p.  396,  and  Fuchs, 
Das  Werden  dreier  Denker :  Fichte,  Schelling,  Schleiermacher;  Thilly, 
Fichte,  Schelling,  Schleiermacher,  vol.  V  of  German  Classics,  and 
Romanticism  and  Rationalism,  Phil.  Rev.,  March,  1913. 

Kant,  according  to  Fichte,  had  abstracted  the  categories  from 
experience,  but  had  not  shown  that  they  were  necessary  laws 
of  intelligence:  that  is,  he  had  not  demonstrated 
his  principles.  This  can  only  be  done,  Fichte  tells  Aim  and 
us,  by  deriving  them  from  a  common  root,  that  is,  g1^  °  ^ thfc 
only  by  means  of  a  strictly  scientific  procedure.  Knowledge 
Every  science,  in  order  to  be  science,  must  pos- 
sess a  coherent  body  of  propositions,  held  together  by  a  first 
principle;  it  should  be  an  interrelated  system  of  propositions, 
an  organic  whole  in  which  each  proposition  occupies  a  certain 
place  and  bears  a  certain  relation  to  the  whole.  Thus,  the  no- 
tion of  space  is  the  central  idea  in  geometry,  that  of  causation 
in  natural  science.  The  different  sciences  call  for  an  all- 
embracing  Science,  a  science  of  sciences,  a  Wissenschaftslehre, 
which  shall  establish  or  prove  the  basal  principle  on  which 
every  one  of  them  rests.  And  this  universal  science  or  phi- 
losophy, the  source  of  the  certainty  of  all  the  others,  must  itself 
proceed  from  a  self-evident  or  necessary  proposition,  from  an 
absolute  first  principle  that  shall  give  its  own  judgments  their 
scientific  character,  while,  at  the  same  time,  validating  those  of 
all  the  other  fields  of  research. 

This  central  science,  however,  is  not  the  lawgiver,  but  the 
historiographer  of  knowledge:  it  becomes  conscious  of  the  sys- 
tem of  the  necessary  acts  of  the  mind,  observes  or  watches  it 
in  its  necessary  creation.  And  yet  it  is  not  a  mere  register  of 
what  happens,  though  Fichte  sometimes  declares  it  to  be  such; 
it  seeks  to  understand  the  necessity  of  these  acts,  to  discover 


436  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  grounds  or  logical  presuppositions  of  the  various  forms  of 
knowing.  ' '  If  but  a  single  link  in  the  long  chain  which  idealism 
has  to  forge  does  not  finally  connect  itself  with  the  one  next  to 
it,  our  science  does  not  claim  to  have  proved  anything  at  all." 
The  assumption  is  that  the  mind  itself  is  a  rational  system,  that 
it  acts  as  organic  reason,  that  the  different  functions  of  intel- 
ligence are  not  disconnected  and  unmeaning  acts,  but  all  means 
to  a  common  end ;  that  if  it  were  not  for  them,  the  purpose  of 
reason, — namely,  the  evolution  of  self-consciousness, — could  not 
be  realized.  The  philosopher  should,  therefore,  understand  the 
purpose  or  meaning  of  all  consciousness  before  he  can  undertake 
the  task  of  deduction.  Just  as  in  a  clock,  if  we  know  the  pur- 
pose of  the  whole,  its  structure,  size,  and  so  on,  we  can  tell  what 
the  parts  must  be,  so  in  the  case  of  the  system  of  conscious- 
ness, we  can  understand  the~parts  if  we  understand  the  whole, 
or  purpose:  that  is,  clear  and  complete,  or  developed,  self- 
consciousness.  The  method  of  the  Wissenschaftslehre  consists  in 
showing  that  the  various  acts  of  intelligence  are  means  to  the 
evolution  of  self-consciousness,  that  the  mind  could  not  become 
free  and  self-conscious  if  it  were  not  for  these  particular  acts 
of  intelligence.  In  his  earlier  and  more  technical  works  Fichte 
develops  the  system  of  knowledge  from  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple; in  the  more  popular  presentations  he  rises  from  the  ob- 
servation of  knowledge  to  the  principle ;  but  his  object  is  always 
the  same:  the  illumination  of  the  organic  unity  of  knowledge. 
He  sometimes  calls  his  method  a  genetic  method;  it  does  not, 
however,  aim  to  describe  the  psychological  genesis  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  knowledge,  but  to  show  how  they  arise  from  their  nec- 
essary presuppositions,  or  how  reason  itself  evolves  them. 

In  order  to  study  the  genesis  of  rational  thinking,  the  philoso- 
pher must  set  his  thought  in  motion  by  an  act  of  will:  phi- 
losophy, therefore,  begins,  not  with  a  fact,  but  with  an  act. 
Knowledge  is  not  a  mere  passive  mirroring  of  the  world  or  mere 
opinion,  but  a  self -determining  living  process, — not  a  possession, 
but  an  achievement.  Genuine  knowledge  is  possible  only  by  an 
act  of  freedom.  I  understand  only  what  I  can  create  freely 
in  thought;  what  I  cannot  create,  I  do  not  understand.  Con- 
sciousness can  be  explained  by  nothing  outside  of  itself;  it  can- 
not be  produced  by  anything  external  to  it,  it  is  a  spontaneous 


JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE  437 

act  or  creation  which  becomes  aware  of  itself  in  the  act  of  crea- 
tion. Knowledge,  in  other  words,  necessarily  presupposes,  as 
its  ground,  pure  activity,  self-determining  activity,  or  rather 
it  is  such  activity.  Knowledge,  intelligence,  thought,  is  free. 
There  could  be  no  world  of  sense,  no  experience,  no  thinking, 
without  such  activity;  this,  therefore,  is  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple which  we  have  been  seeking.  The  pure  ego,  the  principle 
of  egoity,  or  self-active  reason,  is  the  starting-point  of  the 
Wissenschaftslehre,  the  self-evident  presupposition  of  all  knowl- 
edge; it  is  also  the  end  or  goal  of  our  science,  for  when  the 
Wissensckaftslehre  has  reached  complete  self-consciousness,  con- 
sciousness has  grasped  the  meaning  of  all  knowledge. 

As  we  have  seen,  an  act  of  will  is  needed  to  set  the  mind 
(the  ego)  in  motion,  but,  once  at  work,  it  will  act  in  certain 
necessary  ways.  In  this  sense,  necessity  is  a  product  of  free- 
dom. I  am  not  compelled  to  think,  but  if  I  think,  I  must  think 
according  to  laws, — in  sensuous  terms,  let  us  say,  according  to 
the  forms  of  space  and  time,  according  to  the  principle  of  suffi- 
cient reason,  and  so  on.  But  no  consciousness  would  be  possible 
without  an  active  ego.  Take,  for  example,  the  judgment  A  =  A ; 
simple  as  it  is,  it  would  be  impossible  if  it  were  not  for  a  syn- 
thetic mind.  If  the  ego  did  not  spring  into  existence  and  act, 
or  posit  itself,  as  Fichte  puts  it,  there  could  be  no  subject,  no 
object,  no  world  of  experience.  And  since  there  can  be  no  world 
of  experience,  no  phenomenal  world,  without  the  ego  as  its 
condition,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  the  ego  as  a  link  in  the 
chain  of  objects;  that  would  be  putting  the  cart  before  the 
horse. 

The  question  arises,  How  do  we  reach  the  ego-principle?  We 
can  infer  it  as  the  ground  of  experience  and  the  forms  of  thought, 
as  the  unity  of  theoretical  and  practical  reason. 
But  Schulze  had  warned  against  such  reasoning 
as  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the  Critique,  and  Fichte 
himself  sometimes  sees  no  more  speculative  warrant  for  assum- 
ing a  spiritual  ground  than  a  material  ground.  He  offers  sev- 
eral other  lines  of  argument  in  support  of  his  idealism.  One 
of  them  connects  itself  with  the  results  of  Kant's  ethical  phi- 
losophy, and  finds  its  way  to  the  principle  by  means  of  the  moral 
law.  Fichte  shares  Kant's  view  of  the  insufficiency  of  the  in- 


438  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tellect:  we  cannot  grasp  the  living  reality  by  the  discursive 
understanding  and  its  spatial,  temporal,  causal  ways ;  only  when 
we  have  seen  through  the  nature  of  ordinary  knowing,  its  super- 
ficiality and  relativity,  can  we  grasp  the  living  reality  behind 
the  surface:  freedom,  the  moral  world-order,  and  God.  If  we 
were  limited  to  scientific  intelligence,  we  could  never  rise  beyond 
the  notion  of  an  inexorable  causal  order,  and  would  ourselves 
be  unable  to  escape  the  machinery  of  nature.  But  there  is  a 
way  out.  In  an  act  of  intellectual  intuition,  which  is  itself  an 
act  of  free  will,  we  become  conscious  of  the  law  of  duty,  or  the 
universal  purpose,  which  commands  us  to  be  Tree  persons,  to 
free  ourselves  from  the  determinism  of  nature,  to  refuse  to  be 
mere  links  in  a  causal  chain.  Acceptance  of  the  law  of  duty 
and  of  the  freedom  which  it  implies  will  give  our  life  worth  and 
meaning;  it  will  enable  us  to  understand  the  world  as  the  in- 
strument of  a  universal  purpose  (the  realization  of  freedom), 
and  to  transform  ourselves  from  blind  tools  of  this  purpose  into 
its  willing  helpers.  Now  it  becomes  clear  that  our  ordinary 
sense-perceiving  knowledge  is  a  practical  instrument  for  achiev- 
ing freedom ;  it  presents  us  with  the  resistance  needed  for  the 
exercise  of  will:  we  cannot  become  free  without  putting  forth 
effort,  hence  we  need  a  world  to  struggle  against  and  to  over- 
come. The  world  would  have  no  meaning,  therefore,  if  the  com- 
mand of  duty  to  achieve  freedom  were  not  realizable ;  it  becomes 
perfectly  intelligible  to  us  in  the  light  of  the  deliverances  of 
the  moral  consciousness. 

These  thoughts  won  for  Fichte's  philosophy  the  name  of 
ethical  idealism:  it  is  a  world-view  based  on  moral  faith.  We 
cannot  prove  to  theoretical  reason  the  primacy  of  a  free  self- 
determining  being, — for  theoretical  reason  never  ceases  to  search 
after  grounds, — but  we  accept  such  a  principle  as  ultimate,  be- 
cause it  alone  can  satisfy  the  demands  of  our  moral  nature  and 
give  our  life  worth  and  meaning.  It  is  from  this  standpoint 
that  "  the  choice  of  one's  philosophy  depends  on  what  kind  of 
man  one  is,"  as  Fichte  says.  The  man  without  the  ethical  ideal, 
the  man  who  cannot  free  himself  from  the  machinery  of  nature, 
cannot  conceive  himself  otherwise  than  as  a  thing  or  product, 
or  take  an  interest  in  the  free  self:  he  cannot  know  and  prize 
what  he  has  not  experienced, — the  freedom  to  be  a  person, — 


JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE  439 

and  he  cannot  experience  it  because  he  has  never  achieved  it. 
The  man  who  has  freed  himself  from  the  slavery  of  the  senses, 
who  is  a  self-determining  agent,  regards  himself  as  a  power 
superior  to  everything  sensuous,  and  cannot  will  to  conceive 
himself  as  a  thing. 

There  is  another  line  of  thought  in  Fichte,  according  to  which 
the  ego  is  immediately  conscious  of  its  free  activity  in  itself. 
Idealism  has  this  advantage  over  dogmatism  or  materialism: 
the  object  of  the  former,  the  ego,  appears  in  consciousness,  not 
as  an  object  of  experience,  not  as  a  phenomenon  or  link  in  the 
causal  series,  but  as  an  ego-in-itself,  as  something  real,  as  some- 
thing above  all  experience.  There  exists  an  immediate  self- 
consciousness  of  free  mental  action.  But  such  consciousness  does 
not  force  itself  upon  us,  we  must  produce  it  in  ourselves  by  an 
act  of  freedom.  If  we  cannot  perform  the  act,  we  will  not  un- 
derstand the  idealistic  philosophy,  we  will  not  get  the  glimpse 
into  the  real  world  of  mind.  The  dogmatist  denies  the  postulate 
of  the  freedom  and  independence  of  the  ego  because  he  cannot 
discover  it  in  his  world ;  if  he  is  consistent,  he  must  be  a  fatalist 
and  a  materialist.  We  cannot  prove  conceptually  that  there 
is  such  an  act  of  intellectual  intuition  nor  what  it  is.  Every 
one  must  find  it  directly  in  himself,  or  he  will  never  know  of  it. 
As  well  might  we  attempt  to  explain  to  a  man  born  blind  what 
colors  are  as  try  to  demonstrate  what  this  intellectual  intui- 
tion is.  But  it  can  be  pointed  out  to  every  one  that  it  occurs 
in  every  phase  of  his  consciousness.  Every  person  who  ascribes 
activity  to  himself,  tacitly  appeals  to  such  an  intuition.  Here 
Fichte  holds  that  wherever  there  is  spiritual  activity,  there  is 
consciousness  of  it,  even  though  it  escapes  the  attention  of  the 
dogmatist. 

Fichte  also  points  out  that  the  truth  of  idealism  can  be  veri- 
fied by  experience.  If  the  presupposition  of  idealism  is  correct 
and  if  the  correct  deductions  have  been  made,  the  final  result 
must  be  a  system  of  necessary  ideas,  or  the  sum-total  of  experi- 
ence. If  the  results  of  a  philosophy  do  not  agree  with  experi- 
ence, the  philosophy  is  certainly  false,  for  it  has  not  kept  its 
promise  to  deduce  the  whole  of  experience  and  to  explain  it  by 
the  necessary  action  of  intelligence.  But  idealism  does  not  keep 
experience  in  view  as  a  goal  at  which  to  arrive;  it  pays  no 


440  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

attention  whatever  to  experience.  In  its  procedure,  it  evolves  its 
propositions  from  the  basal  idea,  regardless  of  what  the  results 
may  be.  That  is  what  Fichte  says,  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
he  does  pay  attention  to  experience;  he  asks  us  to  observe  the 
intelligence  in  its  operations,  to  watch  the  mind  at  work.  What 
he  means  to  imply  is  that  mere  observation  of  such  acts  would 
not  be  philosophy,  that  this  demands  an  understanding  of  these 
acts,  an  understanding  of  their  ground  and  purpose,  and  that 
such  an  understanding  can  only  be  reached  by  logical  thought. 
Fichte  bases  all  reality  on  the  ego;  since  ego  is  everything, 
there  can  be  nothing  outside,  no  thing-in-itself  in  the  sense  of 

an  independent  extra-mental  object.  The  problem 
External  Q£  idealism  is,  therefore,  to  explain  how  we  happen 

to  ascribe  objective  reality  to  what  seems  to  be 
merely  subjective,  or,  how  we  come  to  assume  existence  or  being 
as  opposed  to  life,  action,  mind.  Fichte  tells  us  that  it  belongs 
to  the  very  nature  of  the  self-active  principle  to  limit  itself: 
in  springing  into  existence  it  at  the  same  time  limits  itself,  and 
it  must  limit  itself  if  it  is  to  be  at  all.  I  experience  my  limita- 
tion in  my  feelings  of  red,  sweet,  cold ;  they  show  me  that  I  am 
limited;  they  force  themselves  on  me.  Dogmatists  attempt  to 
explain  such  original  feelings  or  sensations  as  the  effects  of 
something,  of  a  thing-in-itself;  but  here  all  transcendental  ex- 
planation comes  to  a  stop,  according  to  Fichte.  The  objective 
world  is  produced  by  the  ego  for  itself,  in  the  sense  that  the 
mind  projects  the  purely  subjective  modifications  of  conscious- 
ness into  space,  or  makes  objects  of  them.  If  it  were  not  for 
sensations  and  the  necessary  functions  or  acts  of  the  ego  (space, 
time,  and  causality),  we  should  never  produce  the  phenomenal 
world  which  we  perceive.  What  arouses  sensations,  we  do  not 
know.  This  does  not  mean  that  our  knowledge  of  the  phe- 
nomenal world  has  no  objective  validity.  It  is  not  an  illusion 
that  things  are  presented  to  us,  it  is  our  sole  truth.  It  becomes 
an  illusion  only  when  we  say  there  are  things-in-themselves  inde- 
pendently of  us,  outside  of  us.  It  is  a  false  philosophy  that 
introduces  this  fictitious  notion;  common-sense  knows  nothing 
of  it.  Take  this  world  as  you  find  it,  seek  to  understand  it  and 
to  act  on  it.  This  is  the  standpoint  of  critical  idealism :  we  can- 
not transcend  consciousness  by  our  theoretical  reason.  All  that 


JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE  441 

we  can  know  is  that  the  ego  posits  itself  as  determined  by  the 
non-ego;  that  it  does  so  cannot  be  theoretically  explained. 
Fichte,  however,  solves  the  problem  practically:  we  cannot  ex- 
plain to  reason  the  origin  of  the  limits;  but  their  significance 
or  ethical  value  is  perfectly  clear  and  certain:  they  mark  our 
definite  place  in  the  moral  order  of  things.  What  we  perceive 
through  them  has  reality,  the  only  reality  that  concerns  us  or 
exists  for  us.  Our  world  is  "  the  sensualized  material  of  our 
duty ; ' '  through  these  things  we  can  and  must  realize  our  moral 
ideals.  The  world  is  a  means  of  realizing  our  purposes,  hence 
what  difference  does  it  make  whether  it  is  real  or  appearance! 
The  ego  as  a  self-active  being  needs  a  world  of  opposition,  one 
in  which  it  can  struggle,  one  in  which  it  can  become  conscious 
of  itself  and  its  freedom,  one  in  which  it  can  achieve  freedom. 
It  demands  a  world  ordered  according  to  laws,  a  strictly  deter- 
mined world,  in  order  that  the  free  self  may  realize  its  pur- 
poses by  relying  on  these  laws.  The  ego  must  know  what  to 
expect,  otherwise  rational  purposive  action  is  impossible. 

There  is  much  in  this  view  that  is  suggestive  of  subjective 
idealism,  and  most  of  Fichte 's  contemporaries  interpreted  it  as 
such.  Fichte,  however,  means  by  the  ego,  on 
which  he  bases  his  philosophy,  not  the  individual 
ego  of  common-sense,  but  the  pure  ego,  pure  ac- 
tivity, universal  reason,  intelligence  as  such.  Absolute  ego  (ego- 
ity,  or  Ichheit)  and  individuality  are  quite  different  concepts 
for  him.  Reason  as  such  is  prior  (logically)  to  the  personal 
ego,  it  is  the  condition  or  logical  ground  of  the  individual  ego. 
"We  cannot  think  of  individual  selves  without  ascribing  to  them 
all  the  same  reason,  the  same  universal  processes  of  thought. 
The  logical  prius,  however,  does  not  remain  a  mere  logical  prius 
with  Fichte ;  as  we  saw  before,  the  absolute  ego  turns  out  to  be 
more  than  an  abstraction.  It  is,  in  reality,  above  all  persons, 
over-individual;  it  is  the  universal  active  reason,  the  same  in 
all  persons,  of  which  the  individual  can  have  a  vision  if  he  wills 
it  so.  The  highest  degree  of  self-consciousness  is  the  self- 
consciousness  of  the  philosopher,  the  intellectual  intuition  in 
which  the  ego  returns  unto  itself  and  is  conscious  of  its  activity. 
Here  it  rises  above  space-  and  time-perception ;  it  no  longer  be- 
holds a  phenomenal  causal  order,  but  withdraws  within  itself, 


442  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

looks  at  itself,  and  knows  itself.  That  is  what  gives  Fichte 's 
philosophy  such  certainty  in  his  eyes;  it  not  only  infers  a  prin- 
ciple or  reaches  it  by  logical  abstraction,  but  experiences  it, 
in  a  larger  sense  of  the  term  experience  than  Kant  would  accept. 
In  his  earlier  writings  Fichte  speaks  of  this  principle  as  the 
universal  reason  that  acts  in  us  all,  that  phase  of  us,  we  should 
say,  that  thinks  in  universal  terms,  that  knows  universal  truths 
and  has  universal  purposes  or  ideals.  He  was  interested  in 
refuting  naturalism,  the  mechanical  and  deterministic  concep- 
tion of  reality ;  and  so  emphasized  the  idealistic  character  of  all 
experience.  He  did  not  define  his  notion  of  the  ego  in  detail. 
This,  together  with  the  fact  that  he  called  it  ego,  led  to  the  mis- 
conception of  his  system  as  subjective  idealism,  against  which 
he  protested  vigorously  from  the  beginning.  Later  on,  he  worked 
the  problem  out  and  expressed  himself  more  definitely,  so  that 
the  principle  which  his  extreme  opponents  had  interpreted  as 
the  personal  subjective  ego  finally  became  God. 

But  whether  it  be  called  universal  reason,  absolute  ego,  or  God, 
the  principle  is  conceived  as  a  universal  life-process  that  domi- 
nates all  individual  consciousnesses.  There  are  other  rational 
beings  outside  of  us,  who  both  act  on  the  phenomenal  world 
and  represent  it  in  the  same  way;  which  shows  that  the  same 
power  of  life,  the  same  universal  principle,  is  active  in  all  egos. 
Nature  is  not  the  creation  of  the  particular  ego,  but  the  phe- 
nomenal expression  or  reflection,  in  the  subject,  of  the  universal 
spiritual  principle.  Universal  life  is  the  true  reality  of  which 
the  individual  selves  are  the  products  or  phenomena;  it  domi- 
nates them,  like  a  law  of  nature.  Fichte  is,  therefore,  a  realist 
in  the  sense  of  assuming  a  universal  principle  of  reality  and 
not  merely  individual  consciousnesses;  but  he  refuses  to  con- 
ceive this  principle  as  a  static  substance,  either  material  or  spir- 
itual: it  is  a  living,  flowing,  self -determining  spiritual  process 
that  expresses  or  manifests  itself  in  individual  selves,  that  is 
the  law  of  their  nature,  the  common  ground  of  their  sensational 
or  phenomenal  life  as  well  as  of  the  necessary  laws  of  thought. 
It  is  this  universal  life  and  reason  that  lives  and  thinks  and  acts 
in  us:  in  it  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being.  Fichte  does 
not  deny  the  existence  of  an  extra-mental  world,  in  the  sense 
of  a  reality  outside  of  the  individual  personal  consciousness; 


JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE  443 

indeed,  he  tries  to  show  that  there  could  be  no  such  conscious- 
nesses, no  individuals,  if  it  were  not  for  the  universal  life-process. 
But  this  world  is  not  a  world  of  dead  things,  arranged  in  a 
spatial-temporal-causal  order;  the  latter  is  the  revelation  in 
human  consciousness  of  the  absolute  principle,  and  could  not 
exist  if  it  were  not  for  the  universal  ego.  Fichte's  subjective 
idealism  is  supplemented  by  an  objective  or  metaphysical  ideal- 
ism; he  himself  called  it  real-idealism.  We  are  the  creatures 
or  products  or  revelations  of  universal  nature ;  in  us  the  universal 
law  of  nature  thinks  and  comes  to  consciousness;  yes, — but  for 
that  very  reason  nature  must  be  Geist,  spirit,  mind,  and  can  be 
nothing  else. 

How  the  universal  and  unlimited  life-principle  comes  to 
divide  itself  among  the  countless  individual  selves,  Fichte  tries 
to  make  clear  by  means  of  the  analogy  of  light.  As  light  is 
broken  by  an  obstacle  and  reflected  or  turned  back  to  its  source, 
so  the  universal  activity  must  be  reflected,  or  turned  back  upon 
itself,  by  some  obstacle.  There  could  be  no  consciousness  (light), 
no  self-consciousness,  no  self-determining  thought,  no  knowl- 
edge, unless  the  infinite  activity  met  with  some  check:  it  can, 
therefore,  become  conscious  of  itself  only  in  finite  form,  in  the 
ego  limited  by  opposition.  And  since  universal  life  is  infinite, 
it  cannot  exhaust  itself  in  finite  form,  but  must  go  on,  infi- 
nitely, producing  egos,  and  become  conscious  of  itself  in  this 
process  of  separation  or  individuation.  Consciousness,  it  seems, 
arises  through  the  self -limitation  of  the  universal  ego,  through 
an  act  that  precedes  the  birth  of  consciousness,  and  of  which 
we  are  not  conscious.  The  absolute  ego  produces  the  selves  un- 
consciously, and  the  selves  are  unconscious  of  their  creation. 

But  why  should  there  be  life  at  all,  and  why  should  it  express 
itself  in  countless  forms  of  consciousness?  We  cannot  conceive 
of  the  universal  life  process  or  pure  activity  as  purposeless; 
it  would  be  meaningless  if  it  were  not  a  means  to  an  ethical 
end.  The  purpose  of  nature,  or  the  non-ego,  is  the  same:  it, 
too,  is  a  means  of  realizing  the  ego.  It  is  the  same  absolute 
ego  that  expresses  itself  in  us  and  in  nature,  in  the  individual 
self  and  in  the  not-self.  The  life  of  the  world  and  the  indi- 
viduals in  it  are  the  visible  expressions  of  the  ultimate  moral 
purpose;  we  can  understand  them  only  as  such;  they  have  no 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

reality  except  as  means  to  the  moral  end.  The  individual  selves 
can,  however,  by  an  act  of  will  raise  themselves  from  the  state 
of  mere  appearance  to  the  knowledge  of  the  supersensible,  and 
in  this  way  adopt  the  universal  moral  purpose  as  their  own. 

There  is,  then,  a  difference  between  the  absolute,  independent 
ego  and  the  conscious,  dependent,  individual  ego.  The  absolute 
ego  is  present  in  the  individual  ego  as  a  pure  impulse  to  action 
and  as  a  moral  purpose,  as  the  consciousness  of  duty,  which 
commands  the  self  to  overcome  the  opposition  of  the  world  of 
sense,  to  realize  the  ideal  of  freedom  after  which  the  absolute 
ego  strives.  When  we  become  aware  of  pure  activity  in  our- 
selves, we  know  the  essence  of  reality,  and  when  we  strive  to 
realize  our  moral  purpose,  we  are  striving  to  realize  the  mean- 
ing of  the  universe,  the  purpose  of  the  absolute  ego.  The  pur- 
pose of  which  the  individual  ego  becomes  conscious  in  itself  is 
the  voice  of  the  Absolute,  the  purpose  of  the  same  absolute 
ego  that  expresses  itself  in  the  world  of  things.  We  can  accom- 
plish what  our  nature  urges,  or  impels  us  to  do;  the  same  uni- 
versal will  that  prompts  the  act  at  the  same  time  produces  the 
changes  in  the  external  world. 

The  question  arises:  What  freedom  is  left  to  the  individual 
self  in  this  scheme?  The  individual  self  is  a  manifestation  of 
an  absolute  activity;  it  is  determined,  on  its  theoretical  side,  by 
necessary  laws  of  sense-perception  and  thought,  and,  on  its 
practical  side,  by  the  universal  purpose.  The  universal  purpose 
is  bound  to  realize  itself  in  the  world  whether  the  individual 
wills  it  or  not,  and  the  sense-world  will  follow  its  laws  regard- 
less of  him.  But  the  individual  has  the  power  of  choice  whether 
he  shall  think  or  not ; — thinking,  in  the  real  sense  of  the  term, 
is  only  possible  by  an  act  of  will, — and  he  can  decide,  also, 
whether  to  make  the  universal  purpose  his  own ;  that,  too,  will 
depend  on  his  free  choice.  It  lies  in  our  power  to  decide  whether 
we  shall  remain  blind  tools  of  the  universal  purpose  or  become 
conscious  and  willing  instruments  in  the  service  of  the  good. 
When  once  we  have  decided  freely  to  do  our  duty,  to  realize 
the  universal  purpose,  we  are  no  longer  free;  we  have  made 
ourselves  instruments  of  the  Absolute,  and  our  moral  life  is 
determined. 

Freedom,  in  this  connection,  means  a  free  inexplicable  choice, 


JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE  445 

the  freedom  of  indifference,  a  sudden  leap  of  the  will.  Fichte 
concludes  from  this  view  that  men  are  either  good  or  bad,  accord- 
ing as  they  have  either  chosen  the  good  or  have  remained  mere 
cogs  in  the  machinery  of  sense,  and  that  the  good  alone  win 
immortality.  He  also  concludes  that  resistance  and  moral  strug- 
gle are  never  overcome;  the  universal  moral  purpose  is  never 
realized;  moral  life  is  in  constant  progress  towards  the  good 
which  it  never  reaches :  hence,  world  will  give  way  to  world. 

Fichte 's  entire  system  is  tinged  with  ethical  ideas:  it  begins 
with  Kant's  categorical  imperative  and  ends  with  the  uni- 
versal moral  purpose  of  God.  We  have  seen  how 
he  deduces  our  world  of  experience  from  the  moral 
law:  the  moral  law  commands  freedom  from  the 
rule  of  sense.  There  can  be  no  deliverance  from  sense  unless 
there  is  something  to  be  delivered  from,  a  state  of  unfreedom, 
a  natural  ego  limited  by  a  world.  The  moral  law  implies  free- 
dom, freedom  implies  deliverance  from  obstacles,  and  this  im- 
plies a  sensible  world.  The  moral  law  implies  a  continued  life 
of  struggle,  hence  immortality ;  and  it  implies  a  universal  pur- 
pose or  a  God.  It  also  presupposes  that  what  the  individual 
aims  at  in  his  dutiful  conduct  is  actually  achieved  and  realized, 
that  is,  a  moral  order,  an  order  that  ought  to  follow  from  the 
moral  determination  of  his  will,  something  that  lies  beyond  the 
sphere  of  his  own  moral  will,  but  which  must  be  assumed  in  order 
to  give  it  purpose  and  meaning.  In  other  words,  the  moral  law 
implies  a  religious  faith:  it  would  have  no  meaning  without 
religious  faith,  without  the  belief  in  a  moral  world-order  and 
in  the  moral  world-orderer.  It  is  faith,  then,  that  gives  cer- 
tainty and  conviction  to  what  might  be  mere  illusion,  and  this 
faith  is  a  decision  of  the  will:  I  will  to  believe.  Conscience  is 
the  touchstone  of  every  truth  and  every  conviction. 

The  ethical  purpose  realizes  itself  in  the  world;  nature  and 
man  are  instruments  in  the  service  of  the  good.  Man 's  vocation 
is,  therefore,  to  do  his  duty,  to  work  consciously  and  voluntarily 
for  the  realization  of  the  highest  good,  to  turn  his  gaze  toward 
the  universal  moral  end.  His  conscience  commands  him  to  free 
himself  from  the  slavery  of  sense,  to  be  a  person,  not  a  thing. 
He  cannot,  however,  escape  the  determinism  of  nature  without 
knowledge,  and  he  cannot  act  on  nature  without  knowledge,  hence 


446  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

he  must  seek  knowledge  for  moral  ends  and  not  from  mere 
curiosity.  It  is,  therefore,  his  duty  to  know  what  he  is  doing, 
and  not  to  act  unless  he  does  know  what  he  is  doing.  He  should 
act  from  conviction  always  and  never  under  the  compulsion 
of  authority.  The  command  to  be  free  carries  with  it  the  com- 
mand to  exercise  his  reason,  to  understand  the  purpose  estab- 
lished by  conscience.  Conscience  commands  duty  for  duty's 
sake;  such  a  command  implies  a  purpose  to  be  realized;  con- 
science tells  me  what  my  purpose  ought  to  be.  I  do  not  act 
as  I  act  because  something  is  a  purpose  for  me,  but  it  becomes 
a  purpose  because  I  ought  to  act  so.  Hence  conscience  is  infal- 
lible, it  will  always  tell  us,  in  every  concrete  situation,  how  to 
act ;  that  is,  to  be  sure,  if  we  stop  to  think  the  matter  out. 

For  Fichte,  morality  does  not  consist  merely  in  the  good  will, 
— respect  for  the  moral  law  is  not  enough ; — the  good  will  must 
express  itself  in  acts,  it  should  seek  to  overcome  the  resistance 
of  nature,  inner  and  outer:  morality  is  a  struggle.  The  battle 
with  nature,  however,  does  not  consist  in  annihilation,  but  in 
adapting  it  to  man's  ethical  purposes;  it  can  and  ought  to  be 
made  an  appropriate  instrument  for  the  purposes  of  reason: 
hence  the  ethical  significance  of  natural  goods,  of  property,  the 
various  callings,  and  our  entire  industrial  life,  all  of  which  can 
be  placed  in  the  service  of  the  universal  moral  purpose.  And 
since  the  moral  life  is  not  an  isolated  individual  existence  but 
a  community  life,  each  individual  should  regard  himself  as  a 
member  of  a  working  society  and  sacrifice  his  own  earthly 
possessions  for  the  common  good,  by  which  alone  the  ultimate 
purpose  can  be  realized.  Every  man  should  freely  choose  his 
proper  sphere  of  action  in  the  world  in  accordance  with  the 
dictates  of  his  conscience,  but  that  he  may  choose  properly  edu- 
cation is  needed.  Indeed,  it  is  necessary  that  the  individual  be 
educated  in  order  that  conscience  may  arise  in  him;  without 
instruction  the  voice  of  duty  would  not  speak,  and  its  signifi- 
cance would  not  be  understood. 

Every  individual  has  his  particular  place  in  society  in  which 
to  labor  for  the  whole.  Similarly,  every  people  has  its  peculiar 
place  in  civilization,  its  unique  contribution  to  make  in  the  battle 
of  humanity  for  freedom.  In  his  patriotic  Addresses  to  the 
German  Nation,  Fichte  held  up  before  his  people  the  ideal  of 


JOHANN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE  447 

German  unity;  it  is  Germany's  mission,  he  said,  to  regain  her 
national  existence,  to  assume  the  philosophical  leadership  in  the 
business  of  civilization,  to  establish  a  State  rooted  in  personal 
liberty,  a  veritable  kingdom  of  justice,  such  as  has  never  ap- 
peared on  earth,  which  shall  realize  freedom  based  on  the  equal- 
ity of  all  who  wear  the  human  form.  And  it  is  the  vocation  of 
the  human  race  to  incorporate  itself  in  a  single  united  body,  a 
universal  federation  of  states,  in  which  the  culture  contributed 
by  every  age  and  people  shall  be  distributed  over  the  entire 
globe. 

But  the  earthly  goal  cannot  be  our  highest  goal ;  we  promote 
the  earthly  human  end  merely  as  a  means  to  the  universal  pur- 
pose: the  realization  of  a  spiritual  kingdom  which  alone  gives 
worth  and  meaning  to  the  phenomenal  order.  Man  is  a  citizen 
of  both  worlds:  he  cannot  work  for  the  other  world  without  at 
least  willing  to  work  for  this.  We  work  for  the  other  world  by 
making  the  will  good;  every  act  in  accordance  with  the  will 
affects  God  and  through  him  other  spirits.  The  voice  of  con- 
science is  God's  voice  in  me;  through  conscience  the  spiritual 
world  reaches  down  to  me,  through  the  will  I  reach  up  to  it 
and  act  on  it.  God  is  the  mediator  between  the  spiritual  world 
and  me.  The  only  principle  by  which  I  recognize  your  work 
is  the  voice  of  conscience,  which  commands  me  to  respect  your 
work,  and  this  voice  is  God's  voice.  And  our  belief  in  the  truth 
of  the  sense-world  is  nothing  but  the  faith  that  a  life  promoting 
freedom  and  morality  will  evolve,  world  without  end,  from  our 
disinterested  and  faithful  performance  of  duty  in  this  world 
of  sense. 

The  state  of  universal  peace  among  men  and  of  their  absolute 
dominion  over  the  mechanism  of  nature  is  not  something  to  be 
possessed  for  its  own  sake ;  the  ideal  is  that  men  should  produce 
it  themselves,  and  that  it  should  be  produced  by  all  men,  as  one 
great  free  moral  community.  The  basal  law  of  the  great  moral 
kingdom  of  which  our  present  life  is  a  part  is:  nothing  new 
or  better  for  a  particular  individual  except  through  his  own 
moral  will;  nothing  new  or  better  for  the  community  except 
through  the  social  moral  will. 

"  I  do  not  understand  my  complete  vocation;  what  I  ought 
to  be  and  what  I  shall  be  transcends  all  my  thinking.  I  know 


448  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

for  certain  at  every  moment  of  my  life  what  I  ought  to  do  in 
it:  I  ought  to  develop  my  intelligence  and  acquire  knowledge 
in  order  to  extend  the  sphere  of  my  duty.  I  ought  to  regard 
myself,  body  and  soul,  merely  as  a  means  to  the  end  of  duty. 
All  I  can  care  for  is  the  promotion  of  reason  and  morality  in 
the  kingdom  of  rational  beings,  for  progress  for  its  own  sake. 
I  regard  myself  as  an  instrument  of  the  rational  purpose  and 
respect  and  love  myself  only  as  such.  All  the  events  of  the 
world  I  measure  by  this  purpose  alone.  My  entire  personality 
is  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  the  goal.  I  am  in  the  world 
of  the  highest  wisdom  and  goodness,  which  penetrates  its  plan 
and  executes  it  without  error,  and  in  this  conviction  I  rest  and 
am  blessed." 


59.   FRIEDRICH  WILHELM  SCHELLING 

Fichte's  philosophy  takes  account  of  the  diverse  currents  in 
the  thought  of  his  times,  and  seeks  to  gather  them  together  in 
a  common  stream.  With  the  Aufklarung,  he  op- 
New  Idealism  p0ses  authority  and  tradition,  and  seeks  a  rational 
Romanticism  explanation  of  the  world.  In  exalting  the  free  per- 
sonality and  the  rights  of  man,  as  well  as  civilization 
and  progress,  and  demanding  the  reform  of  science,  philosophy, 
religion,  education,  and  of  human  life  in  general,  he  simply 
expresses  the  spirit  of  the  entire  modern  age.  His  patriotic 
appeal  for  German  national  unity  and  his  ideal  of  a  State  based 
on  equality  and  justice  voice  the  yearnings  of  a  people  oppressed 
by  absolutism  and  humiliated  by  the  Napoleonic  wars.  In 
making  mind  or  spirit  (Geist)  the  central  principle  of  reality 
and  delivering  man  from  the  incubus  of  mechanism,  he  expresses 
the  yearning  for  a  universe  that  shall  be  intelligible  to  reason 
and  in  sympathy  with  human  ideals.  Consistent  with  the  new 
idealism,  as  interpreted  by  him,  and  in  agreement  with  the 
great  leaders  of  German  literature,  Lessing,  Herder,  Goethe, 
he  conceives  existence  as  a  dynamic  process  of  evolution  guided 
by  a  moral  purpose.  With  both  the  classic  and  Romantic  poets 
of  his  age  and  the  faith-philosophers, — and,  indeed,  with  Kan; 
himself, — he  agrees  that  the  universal  living  whole  cannot  bo 
grasped  by  the  categories  of  science:  with  Goethe  that  the  uni- 


FRIEDRICH  WILHELM  SCHELLING  449 

verse  must  be  conceived  organically,  as  a  unity  in  diversity; 
with  Jacobi,  that  it  can  be  known  only  in  the  inner  living  experi- 
ence of  the  free  agent,  in  intuition:  in  the  act  of  freedom,  in 
the  sense  of  duty,  and  in  the  love  of  truth,  spirit  speaks  to 
spirit.  The  anti-rationalistic  and  mystical  element  in  Fichte 's 
system, — which  accompanies  his  rigorous  logic, — attracted  the 
Romantic  poets:  the  two  Schlegels,  Tieck,  and  Novalis.  Many 
other  phases  of  the  new  idealism  found  favor  in  their  eyes: 
its  seeming  subjectivism,  its  historical  point  of  view,  and  its 
conception  of  the  uniqueness  of  German  culture.  But  all  these 
characteristic  features  they  tended  to  exaggerate:  reason  gave 
way  to  feeling  and  sentimentalism ;  Fichte  's  intuition  became  the 
divining,  sympathetic  insight  of  the  poetic  genius;  the  rational 
and  ethical  ego  was  transformed  into  a  romantic,  mystical,  im- 
pulsive, even  freakish,  individualistic  self.  Nature  was  inter- 
preted in  analogy  with  such  an  ego  and  conceived  as  the  abode 
of  occult  personified  forces,  while  history  was  appealed  to  in 
support  of  tradition  and  the  past  given  authority  over  the 
present. 

On  the  Romantic  school  of  poetry  and  its  relation  to  philosophy,  see 
the  histories  of  German  literature;  Haym,  Die  romantische  Schule; 
Walzel,  Deutsche  Romantik;  K.  Fischer,  Schelling;  Noack,  Schelling 
und  die  Philosophie  der  Romantik;  T.  Ziegler,  Die  geistigen  und 
socialen  Stromungen  des  XIX.  Jahrhunderts;  Windelband,  Die  Phi- 
losophie im  deutschen  Geistesleben  des  XIX.  Jahrhunderts. 

Schelling  was  influenced  by  all  these  tendencies,  particularly 
by  the  new  idealism  and  the  poetic  Romanticism.  He  was,  like- 
wise, interested  in  Spinozism  and  in  the  natural-scientific  move- 
ment, which  had  made  headway  in  Germany,  under  the  impetus 
given  it  by  the  critical  philosophy.  As  a  youth,  not  yet  out  of  the 
Theological  Seminary  at  Tubingen,  Schelling  gained  fame  as  the 
best  interpreter  of  Fichte ;  and,  a  few  years  later,  supplemented 
Fichte's  philosophy  with  a  philosophy  of  nature  that  not  only 
pleased  the  Romanticists  and  the  poet  Goethe,  but  found  friends 
among  the  natural  scientists  of  his  country. 

Friedrich  Wilhelm  Joseph  Schelling,  born  1775,  studied  philosophy 
and  theology  at  the  Theological  Seminary  of  the  University  of  Tubingen 
from  1790  to  1795.  After  serving  as  private  tutor  to  two  young 
students  at  Leipzig  for  two  years,  during  which  he  himself  studied 


450  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

mathematics,  physics,  and  medicine  at  the  University,  he  accepted  a 
professorship  of  philosophy  at  Jena  (1798).  Here  he  became  attached 
to  the  Romantic  circle  presided  over  by  August  and  Caroline  von 
Schlegel,  and  produced  his  most  brilliant  works.  After  holding  various 
positions,  at  Wiirzburg  (1803-1806),  at  Munich  as  Director  of  the 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts  (1806-1820),  at  Erlangen  (1820-1827),  and  at 
Munich,  again,  as  professor  of  philosophy  in  the  newly-established 
University  (1827-1841),  he  was  called  to  Berlin  to  stem  the  tide 
of  the  popular  Hegelian  philosophy,  but  met  with  little  success.  He 
died  in  1854. 

During  his  earlier  period,  Sehelling  reproduced  the  Fichtean  phi- 
losophy and  continued  it  in  the  spirit  of  the  master;  among  his 
writings  being:  Ideen  zu  einer  Philosophic  der  Natur,  1797;  Von  der 
Weltseele,  1798;  System  des  transcendentalen  Idealismus,  1800.  Dur- 
ing the  second  period,  which  shows  the  influence  of  Bruno  and  Spinoza, 
he  conceives  both  nature  and  mind  as  two  aspects  of  a  higher  principle : 
this  is  his  philosophy  of  identity,  presented  in  Bruno,  1802,  and 
Methode  des  akademischen  Studiums,  1802.  In  his  third  period 
Sehelling  develops  what  he  calls  his  positive  philosophy,  a  philosophy 
of  revelation  and  mythology,  or  theosophy,  which  resembles  that  of 
Jacob  Boehme.  The  universe  is  conceived  as  a  fall  from  God.  The 
meaning  of  universal  history  is  sought  in  the  obscure  beginnings  of 
mythology  and  revelation,  from  which,  Sehelling  thinks,  we  may  gain 
hints  of  the  original  fall  of  man  from  God.  The  works  of  this  period, 
with  the  exception  of  one  on  human  freedom,  were  not  published  until 
after  his  death. 

Complete  works  ed.  by  his  son,  1856,  ff.,  14  vols.;  selected  works, 
by  Weiss,  1908;  translations  in  Journal  of  Spec.  Phil.  Monographs 
by  Watson,  Hartmann,  Fischer,  Brehier,  Braun,  Adam,  Mehlis ;  Bolland, 
Schelling,  Hegel  und  Fechner;  Frantz,  Schellings  positive  Philosophic; 
works  mentioned  pp.  396  and  435. 

Schelling  was  captivated  by  the  new  idealism,  which  explained 

the  world  of  experience  in  terms  of  mind,  and  became  an  ardent 

exponent  of  the  cause.    He  was  not,  however,  sat- 

0?  Nature7  isfied  with  Fichte's  conception  of  nature,— so  far 
as  Fichte  had  developed  it  at  the  time  of  Schel- 
ling's  appearance  on  the  scene, — with  the  view,  namely,  tha': 
nature  is  a  product  of  the  absolute  ego  in  the  individual  con- 
sciousness and  serves  merely  as  an  obstacle  or  incentive  to  tho 
will:  "  nature  is  the  material  of  our  duty."  Schelling  advances 
to  objective  idealism  and  pantheism,  as  Fichte  himself  had  done : 
the  pure  ego  of  epistemology  becomes  the  absolute  ego  of  meta- 
physics. If  reality  is,  at  bottom,  a  living  self -determining  proc- 
ess akin  to  the  human  spirit,  nature  cannot  be  conceived  as  :i 
mere  external  impediment  to  the  will  or  as  a  dead  mechanical 


FRIEDRICH  WILHELM  SCHELLING  451 

order.  We  can  understand  nature  because  it  has  kinship  with 
us,  because  it  is  the  expression  of  a  dynamic  mind,  because  there 
is  life  and  reason  and  purpose  in  it.  But  reason  is  not  neces- 
sarily conscious  intelligence;  with  the  Romanticists  and  faith- 
philosophers,  Schelling  broadens  the  conception  of  spirit,  mind, 
or  reason,  so  as  to  include  the  unconscious,  instinctive,  purposive 
force  that  manifests  itself  in  inorganic  and  organic  nature  as 
well  as  in  the  highest  self-consciousness  of  the  philosopher,  into 
which  it  evolves.  That  which  is  common  to  unconscious  nature 
and  self-conscious  mind  is  pure  activity,  self -determining  energy ; 
reality  is,  through  and  through,  action,  life,  will.  The  absolute 
ground,  or  source,  or  root,  of  all  things  is  creative  energy,  abso- 
lute will  or  ego,  the  one  all-pervading  world-spirit,  in  which 
everything  dwells  in  potency  and  from  which  everything  that 
is  actual  proceeds.  The  ideal  and  the  real,  thought  and  being, 
are  identical  in  their  root ;  the  same  creative  energy  that  reveals 
itself  in  self-conscious  mind  operates  unconsciously  in  sense- 
perception,  in  animal  instinct,  in  organic  growth,  in  chemical 
processes,  in  crystallization,  in  electrical  phenomena,  and  in 
gravity:  there  is  life  and  reason  in  them  all.  The  principle, 
which,  as  blind  unconscious  impulse,  forms  and  moves  my  body, 
becomes  conscious  of  itself,  separates  itself,  as  it  were,  from  its 
blind,  striving  phase  (which  still  goes  on  working  unconsciously) 
and  becomes  pure  spirit,  pure  self -consciousness.  The  universal 
ego  expresses  itself  in  me  and  in  numberless  other  individual 
selves:  in  souls  it  becomes  aware  of  itself.  We  are  real  in  so 
far  as  we  are  rooted  in  the  universal  ego;  we  are  not  real  as 
independent,  isolated  individuals:  absolute  selfhood  is  an 
illusion. 

It  was  this  thought  of  Schelling 's  that  nature  is  visible  spirit, 
spirit  invisible  nature,  that  gave  an  impetus  to  the  Romantic 
imagination  and  encouraged  the  new  poets  to  endow  the 
world  with  life  and  mind,  and  to  view  it  with  a  loving  sym- 
pathy, which  they  could  not  feel  in  the  presence  of  a  dead 
machine. 

Nature  and  mind,  being  and  thought,  are  not,  however,  as 
Spinoza  held,  two  parallel  aspects  of  the  Absolute,  but  different 
steps  or  stages  or  epochs  in  the  evolution  of  absolute  mind.  The 
Absolute  unfolds  itself,  it  has  a  history:  it  is  an  evolutionary 


452  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

process,  the  highest  goal  of  which  is  self-consciousness.  Just 
as  in  our  own  selves  we  rise  from  the  unconscious  or  subcon- 
scious stage  to  clear  self-consciousness  and  yet  remain  one  and 
the  same  self,  so  the  one  universal  ego  rises  from  darkness  to 
light.  The  graduated  scale  of  organized  objects,  from  inanimate 
nature  to  man,  clearly  betrays  a  creative  power  which  only 
gradually  evolves  into  complete  freedom.  The  dead  and  uncon- 
scious products  of  nature  are  merely  unsuccessful  attempts  of 
nature  to  reflect  itself;  so-called  dead  nature  is  an  unripe  intel- 
ligence, but  its  phenomena  unconsciously  exhibit  the  traces  of 
reason.  Nature  reaches  its  highest  goal,  self-consciousness,  in 
man;  here  the  original  identity  of  nature  and  mind  is  revealed 
to  us.  The  most  perfect  theory  of  nature  would,  therefore,  be 
one  in  which  all  the  laws  of  nature  could  be  reduced  to  laws 
of  perception  and  thinking ;  in  which  the  whole  of  nature  would 
resolve  itself  into  intelligence. 

It  is,  therefore,  immaterial  whether  we  begin  with  nature  or 
with  mind,  with  the  Philosophy  of  Nature  or  with  the  System 
of  Transcendental  Idealism;  whether  we  ask,  How  does  nature 
become  (conscious)  intelligence?  or,  How  does  intelligence  be- 
come (unconscious)  nature?  The  principles  of  knowledge  and 
the  principles  of  reality  are  the  same ;  the  question,  How  is 
knowledge  possible?  and  the  question,  How  is  a  world  possible? 
are  answered  by  referring  to  the  same  conditions  and  laws.  The 
results  will  be  the  same;  in  tracing  the  different  epochs  in  the 
history  of  self-consciousness,  from  primitive  sensation  up,  we 
are,  at  the  same  time,  tracing  the  development  of  the  absolute 
principle  as  it  manifests  itself  in  nature.  "  All  qualities  are 
sensations,  all  bodies  are  percepts  of  nature ;  nature  itself,  with 
all  its  sensations  and  percepts,  is  a  congealed  intelligence." 

There  is  the  same  law  in  all:  the  principle  at  the  root  of 
things  acts  in  the  same  uniform  ways,  pulsates  in  the  same 
rhythms  everywhere.  Its  action  is  a  process  of  expansion  and 
contraction:  the  principle  unfolds  what  is  potential  or  implicit 
in  it,  objectifies  itself,  goes  out  of  itself,  so  to  speak,  and  then 
returns  to  itself  enriched  and  enhanced:  in  self-consciousness 
nature  expresses  itself  as  subject  and  object,  differentiates  and 
becomes  conscious  of  itself  in  the  process.  The  different  forces 
of  nature  are  fundamentally  the  same;  heat,  light,  magnetism, 


FRIEDRICH  WILHELM  SCHELLING  453 

electricity  are  different  stages  of  one  and  the  same  principle, 
as  are  also  inorganic  and  organic  nature.  There  is  also  unity 
in  the  different  organic  forms ;  they  constitute  a  graduated  scale 
and  are  the  products  of  the  same  principle  of  organization ; 
they  are  all  built  on  the  same  plan.  All  the  products  of  nature 
are  held  together  by  one  creative  spirit;  every  part  of  it  sub- 
serves the  whole,  of  which  man  is  the  highest  product  and  in 
which  the  goal  is  the  realization  of  self-consciousness. 

Schelling  attempts  to  construct  nature  a  priori,  to  reason  out 
the  necessary  stages  in  the  process  of  its  evolution,  as  Fichte 
had  tried  to  show  the  logical  steps  in  the  development  of  mind. 
Like  Herder  and  Fichte  before  him  and  Hegel  after  him,  he  finds 
a  dialectical  process  at  work  in  the  world,  a  process  in  which 
two  opposing  activities  (thesis  and  antithesis)  are  united  and 
harmonized  or  reconciled  in  a  higher  synthesis.  This  he  calls 
the  law  of  triplicity:  action  is  followed  by  reaction;  from  the 
opposition  a  harmony  or  synthesis  results,  which,  again,  is 
dissolved  in  the  never-ending  movement  of  time.  Hence,  there 
can  be  neither  dead,  static  substance  (or  changeless  atoms)  nor 
complete  flux  in  nature;  neither  absolute  solids  nor  absolute 
fluids,  for  example,  but  only  a  union  of  the  two.  Schelling  ap- 
plies this  thought  to  the  details  of  inorganic  and  organic  nature  ; 
we  find  the  law  expressed  in  the  series:  attraction,  repulsion, 
gravitation;  magnetism,  electricity,  chemism;  sensibility,  irri- 
tability, reproduction.  We  shall  not  follow  him  in  his  account, 
in  which  poetry  and  science  are  mingled  and  in  which  fancy 
and  logic  relieve  each  other;  it  will  be  sufficient  to  remind  the 
reader  that  Schelling 's  basal  idea  of  nature  as  a  dynamic  evo- 
lution is  a  popular  doctrine  in  contemporary  science. 

It  is  because  nature  is  alive,  because  there  is  law,  reason, 
purpose,  in  it,  that  we  can  understand  it,  that  it  can  mean 
anything  to  us.  It  is  bone  of  our  bone  and  flesh  of  our  flesh. 
With  Fichte,  Schelling  rejects  the  old  notion  of  the  unchange- 
able static  substance  and  substitutes  for  it  the  dynamic  idea, 
the  conception  of  universal  life,  of  a  living,  creative,  purposive 
principle  of  evolution,  which  develops  from  unconsciousness  to 
consciousness,  and  whose  ultimate  end  is  the  self-conscious  rea- 
son of  man.  He  opposes  the  mathematical-physical  conception 
of  nature  and  substitutes  for  it  the  teleological  conception,  or, 


454,  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

rather,  reconciles  mechanism  and  the  older  teleology  in  the  no- 
tion of  unconscious  purpose.  On  the  lower  stages,  the  Absolute 
acts  as  if  it  had  conscious  purpose;  it  acts  without  intention, 
but  it  is  not  pushed  into  action,  mechanically,  from  the  outside. 
If  the  observer,  who  sees  only  the  outside  of  the  thing,  its  changes 
in  appearance,  its  different  states  and  stages,  could  place  him- 
self on  the  inside;  if  he  could  himself  be  the  impulse  or  the 
movement,  and  be  conscious  of  it ;  he  would  find  that  the  impulse 
is  not  compelled  from  without,  but  compels  itself  from  within ; 
that  acting  itself  out  is  its  own  will,  and  that  it  is  aware  of 
whither  it  is  going. 

Schelling's  philosophy  of  nature  contained  much  that  was 
fantastic  and  often  offered  bold  assertions,  fanciful  analogies, 
and  brilliant  figures  of  speech  instead  of  proofs  and  facts.  In 
attempting  to  force  nature  into  its  logical  rubrics,  it  tended  to 
withdraw  the  attention  from  details.  But  it  aroused  an  inter- 
est in  nature  and  in  the  study  of  nature,  counteracted  the  influ- 
ence of  a  one-sided  mechanism,  kept  alive  the  philosophical  in- 
stinct or  craving  for  unity,  which  has  always  marked  German 
thought,  even  among  its  leading  natural  scientists,  and  em- 
phasized the  dynamic  and  evolutionary  conception  of  reality, 
which  has  again  become  popular  to-day. 

We  shall  not  attempt  to  offer  a  detailed  account  of  Schelling's 

philosophy  of  mind,  as  given  in  the  System  of  Transcendental 

Idealism,  in  which  his  dependence   on  Fichte  is 

Philosophy  t    marked       It    traces    the    history    of    self- 

of  Mind  .  .    J          . 

consciousness  in  its  different  epochs,  from  primary- 
sensation  to  creative  imagination;  from  creative  imagina- 
tion to  reflection;  from  reflection  to  the  absolute  act  of  will. 
Since  there  is  the  same  principle  at  work  in  all  forms  of 
life,  we  shall  expect  the  activities  of  mind  to  correspond  to 
those  found  in  nature ;  the  forces  of  nature  continue  to  operate 
in  the  consciousness  of  man.  The  method  employed  is  the  same 
as  Fichte 's :  there  could  be  no  finite  ego  unless  the  absolute  ego 
or  energy  limited  its  infinite  activity  and  produced  a  phenomenal 
world ;  the  ego  could  not  achieve  self -consciousness  and  freedom 
if  it  were  not  for  such  a  phenomenal  world.  The  objective  world 
is  the  product  of  absolute  reason,  which  produces  sense- 
perception,  the  necessary  categories  of  thought,  and  self- 


FRIEDRICH  WILHELM  SCHELLING  455 

consciousness  in  the  individual.  A  further  precondition  of 
self-consciousness  and  freedom  is  life  in  society  and  in  an  or- 
ganized State.  An  isolated  ego  could  have  no  thought  of  a 
real  world  and  hence  no  consciousness  of  freedom.  In  the  State, 
which  is  the  expression  of  unconscious  universal  reason,  the 
natural  selfish  impulses  are  restrained  by  the  universal  will; 
individuals  are  unconsciously  socialized  and  prepared  for  a 
higher  ethical  stage,  on  which  they  do  the  right,  not  from  force, 
but  consciously  and  willingly.  The  highest  stage  in  the  devel- 
opment of  self-consciousness  is  reached  in  art ;  the  creative  artist 
imitates  the  creative  action  of  nature  and  becomes  conscious 
of  it,  becomes  conscious  of  the  activity  of  the  Absolute ;  indeed, 
in  artistic  creation  the  Absolute  becomes  conscious  of  its  own 
creative  force.  The  view  that  art  is  the  noblest  function  of 
man  (not  morality,  as  Fichte  had  taught)  was  popular  in  the 
golden  age  of  German  literature  and  in  the  iron  age  of  political 
decadence. 

In  its  developed  state,  Schelling's  philosophy  is  a  form  of 
pantheism,  in  which  the  universe  is  conceived  as  a  living,  evolv- 
ing system;  as  an  organism,  in  which  every  part 
has  its  place  and  subserves  the  whole.  In  this 
sense,  subject  and  object,  form  and  matter,  the 
ideal  and  the  real,  are  one,  together  and  inseparable;  the  one 
is  the  many,  and  the  m/iny  are  one;  just  as  in  an  organism 
we  cannot  tear  the  part  from  the  whole  nor  understand  it  apart 
from  the  whole,  nor  understand  the  whole  without  its  parts. 
The  same  unity  in  plurality,  or  identity  in  diversity,  we  find  in 
mental  life ;  in  the  act  of  knowledge,  the  knower  and  the  thing 
known  are  one. 

The  question  arises:  How  can  we  be  sure  of  the  truth  of 
this  system;  how  can  we  prove  it?  What  guarantee  have  we 
that  action,  or  life,  or  will,  is  the  principle  of  things,  and  that 
it  passes  through  the  stages  of  evolution  described  by  Schelling? 
His  answer  is  not  always  the  same.  Sometimes  he  holds  that 
since  the  world  is  thoroughly  rational,  it  is  self-evident  that  rea- 
son should  understand  it,  and  that  we  should  be  able  to  recon- 
struct it  in  thought.  Moreover,  since  there  is  a  logic  in  its 
history,  we  can  reproduce  the  necessary  stages  of  its  evolution 
in  our  thinking.  His  ideal  here  is  to  produce  an  organic  system 


456  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

of  knowledge,  in  which  every  judgment  has  its  proper  place, 
depending  on  other  judgments  and  on  the  whole  system  for  its 
truth.  In  this  mood,  he  imitates  Spinoza  and  employs  the 
geometric  method  in  order  to  make  his  philosophy  logic-proof. 
In  spite,  however,  of  his  attempt  at  a  rational  deduction  of  the 
progressive  stages  of  nature  and  mind  from  the  notion  and 
purpose  of  the  Absolute,  he  did  not  always  believe  that  his 
system  could  be  made  to  rest  on  an  a  priori  universal  and  nec- 
essary postulate.  Philosophy,  he  held,  cannot  demonstrate  ideal- 
ism, any  more  than  it  can  prove  dogmatism  or  materialism;  a 
man's  world-view  is  his  free  choice.  The  only  way  to  prove  free- 
dom, or  the  reality  of  the  creative  principle,  is  to  be  a  free  self- 
determining  being  oneself.  When  we  set  up  freedom  as  our 
ideal,  we  are  tacitly  assuming  the  reality  of  an  absolute  creative 
spirit ;  for,  if  the  world  were  mere  matter,  it  would  be  meaning- 
less to  strive  to  become  free;  belief  in  the  ideal  implies  belief 
in  a  spiritual  world.  The  will  to  be  free,  will  read  the  world  in 
idealistic  terms.  There  is  another  argument,  which  Fichte  had 
used:  a  free  being  will  know  what  freedom  is,  and  understand 
idealism.  We  become  aware  of  freedom,  or  the  Absolute,  only  in 
the  spontaneous  activity  of  intelligence  and  in  voluntary  action : 
in  an  intellectual  intuition,  which  is  the  unique  endowment  of 
the  philosopher.  The  living,  moving  element  in  nature,  the  inner 
meaning  of  reality,  cannot  be  graspec^  by  the  scientific  under- 
standing with  its  spatial,  temporal,  and  causal  categories. 
"  What  is  described  in  concepts,"  Schelling  tells  us,  "  is  at  rest, 
hence  there  can  be  concepts  only  of  things,  of  the  finite  and 
sense-perceived.  The  notion  of  movement  is  not  movement  itself, 
and  without  intuition  we  should  never  know  what  motion  is. 
Freedom,  however,  can  be  comprehended  only  by  freedom;  ac- 
tivity only  by  activity."  Natural  science  and  common-sense 
take  a  static  view  of  things,  comprehend  only  their  'being;  phi- 
losophy knows  them  in  their  becoming,  it  is  interested  in  the 
living,  moving  element  in  them.  Natural  science  and  common- 
sense  see  them  only  on  the  outside  and  break  them  up ;  we  must 
know  them  from  the  inside,  as  they  are  in  themselves  and  for 
themselves,  and  that  we  can  do  only  by  knowing  ourselves.  Per- 
haps we  can  reconcile  the  rationalistic  and  intuitionistic  tend- 
encies in  Schelling 's  thought  by  declaring  that  intuition  gives 


FRIEDRICH  WILHELM  SCHELLING  457 

us  our  principle  or  fundamental  postulate,  and  that  this  enables 
us  to  construct  a  rational  theory  of  the  world. 

Under  the  influence  of  a  great  poetic  era  and  of  the  artistic 
atmosphere  in  which  he  lived,  Schelling  comes  to  regard  this 
intuition  as  an  artistic  intuition.  At  first  he  conceived  self- 
consciousness,  or  pure  self-reflection,  as  the  goal  of  the  Absolute, 
as  the  highest  achievement  in  the  evolution  of  life  and  mind, 
and  held  that  such  a  state  could  be  experienced  only  in  the 
intuition  of  the  philosopher.  Afterwards  he  interpreted  the  uni- 
verse as  a  work  of  art:  the  Absolute  realizes  its  purpose  in  the 
creation  of  a  cosmos.  Hence,  art,  and  not  philosophical  knowl- 
edge, is  the  highest  human  function.  In  the  products  of  art, 
subject  and  object,  the  ideal  and  the  real,  form  and  matter, 
mind  and  nature,  freedom  and  necessity,  are  one,  or  interpene- 
trate: here  the  harmony  sought  by  philosophy  is  achieved  and 
lies  before  our  very  eyes, — to  be  seen,  touched,  and  heard.  Na- 
ture herself  is  a  great  poem,  and  her  secret  is  revealed  by  art. 
The  creative  artist  creates  as  nature  creates,  in  realizing  his 
ideal,  and  so  knows  how  nature  works;  hence  art  must  serve 
as  the  absolute  model  for  the  intuition  of  the  world:  it  is  the 
true  organ  of  philosophy.  Like  the  artistic  genius,  the  phi- 
losopher must  have  the  faculty  of  perceiving  the  harmony  and 
identity  in  the  universe :  aesthetic  intuition  is  absolute  knowing. 
Akin  to  the  aesthetic  conception  is  the  organic  conception,  as 
which  Schelling  sometimes  describes  intellectual  intuition:  it 
is  the  faculty  of  seeing  things  whole,  the  universal  in  the  par- 
ticular, unity  in  plurality,  identity  in  diversity.  He  expressly 
declares  that  there  is  nothing  mysterious  in  this  function,  but 
that  no  one  can  hope  to  be  a  philosopher  who  does  not  possess 
the  power  to  transcend  the  disconnected,  isolated  data  of  experi- 
ence, and  to  pierce  through  the  outer  shell  into  the  inner  kernel 
of  reality. 

This  type  of  thought  is  diametrically  opposed  to  the  logical' 
mathematical  method  of  science,  against  which  German  litera- 
ture and  German  idealistic  philosophy  both  protest.  Goethe's 
entire  view  of  nature,  art,  and  life  rested  on  the  organic  or 
teleological  conception;  he  too  regarded  the  ability  to  see  the 
whole  in  its  parts,  the  idea  or  form  in  the  concrete  reality,  as 
the  poet's  and  thinker's  highest  gift,  as  an  aper^u,  as  a  revela- 


458  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY   , 

tion  of  consciousness  thatgives  man  a  hint  of  his  likeness  to 
God.    It  is  this  gift  wHicE~Faust  craves  and  Mephisto  sneers  at 
"as  die  hohe  Intuition.* 

On  the  last  stage  of  his  philosophical  development,  Schelling 
reaches  a  religious  mysticism:  the  world  is  conceived  as  a  fall 
from  God,  and  the  goal  as  a  return  to  God,  to  be  realized  in 
a  mystical  intuition  in  which  the  soul  strips  off  its  selfhood  and 
becomes  absorbed  in  the  Absolute.  In  all  the  cases  mentioned, 
however,  the  Absolute  is  defined  as  a  union  or  identity  of  spirit 
and  nature,  of  the  infinite  and  the  finite,  and  the  ideal  as  an 
approximation  to  a  knowledge  of  the  principle,  through  some 
kind  of  intuition,  be  it  in  the  self-consciousness  of  the  thinker, 
in  a  free  act  of  will,  in  artistic  creation,  or  in  religious  feeling. 

60.   FRIEDBICH  SCHLEIEEMACHEB 

In  Schleiermacher  we  have  a  man  of  deep  religious  feeling 
and  marked  intellectual  capacity.  Religion  formed  the  core  of 
his  thought.  The  problem  for  such  a  personality 
of  Rr  i  y  was  to  Develop  a  conception  of  reality  that  would 
satisfy  the  intellect  as  well  as  the  heart.  The  great 
philosophical  movements  which  confronted  him,  and  with  which 
as  a  thinker  he  had  to  reckon,  were  the  theories  of  Kant,  Jacobi, 
Fichte,  and  Schelling  and  the  tendencies  towards  Spinozism 
which  were  so  prominent  in  Germany  at  the  time.  He  was  also 
compelled  to  take  account  of  Romanticism,  with  many  of  whose 
representatives  he  came  into  friendly  personal  touch  and  whose 
mysticism  appealed  to  his  religious  nature.  His  study  of  Greek 
idealism,  particularly  of  Plato,  whose  works  he  translated  into 
German,  also  furnished  his  mind  with  material  for  a  Weltan- 
schauung. Schleiermacher  was  consciously  influenced  by  all 
these  intellectual  movements;  he  calls  himself  a  dilettante  in 
philosophy  and  was  certainly  an  eclectic,  a  fact  which  accounts 
for  many  of  his  inconsistencies.  But  his  eclecticism  was  of  the 
independent,  original  type;  he  assimilated  such  elements  in  the 
culture  of  his  age  as  satisfied  his  ethical  and  religious  needs, 
and  adapted  them  to  his  fundamental  purpose :  the  construction 
of  a  great  system  of  Protestant  theology.  It  is  owing  to  his 

*Cf.  Thilly,  The  World-View  of  a  Poet:  Goethe's  Philosophy,  Hibben 
Journal,  April,  1908. 


FRIEDRICH  SCHLEIERMACHER  45*9 

understanding  and  appreciation  of  the  intellectual  life  of  his 
times  that  he  came  to  exercise  such  a  profound  influence  on 
religious  thought  and  won  for  himself  the  title  of  the  founder 
of  the  new  theology. 

Friedrich  Daniel  Ernst  Schleiermacher  was  born  in  Breslau,  1768,  and 
received  part  of  his  education  in  the  schools  of  the  Moravian  brother- 
hood, a  pietistic  sect.  Influenced  by  the  new  critical  philosophy,  he 
continued  the  study  of  theology  and  philosophy  at  the  University  of 
Halle  (1787-1790),  served  as  a  tutor,  and  then  entered  the  ministry 
(1794).  In  1809  he  became  preacher  of  Trinity  Church  at  Berlin, 
and  in  1810  professor  of  theology  at  the  new  University,  which 
positions  he  filled  until  his  death  in  1834.  In  Berlin  he  came  under 
the  influence  of  the  leaders  of  the  Romantic  school,  but  did  not  follow 
them  in  their  extreme  teachings.  Although  Schleiermacher  achieved 
his  greatest  distinction  as  a  theologian,  he  has  gained  substantial  fame 
in  the  history  of  philosophy  as  a  student  of  the  sources. 

Works:  Eeden  uber  die  Religion,  1799  (transl.  by  Oman);  Mono- 
logen,  1800;  Kritik  der  bisherigen  Sitterilehre,  1803;  translations  of 
Plato's  Dialogues,  with  introductions  and  notes,  1804-1828;  Der  christ- 
liche  Glaube,  1821-1822.  Complete  works,  1834-1864;  selected  works 
by  Braun. 

Selbie,  Schleiermacher;  Cross,  The  Theology  of  Schleiermacher; 
Fuchs,  op.  cit.;  Dilthey,  Das  Leben  Schleiermacher -s,  vol.  I ;  Cramaussel, 
La  philosophic  religieuse  de  Schleiermacher;  works  mentioned  on 
pp.  396,  435,  450. 

Schleiermacher  rejects  the  idealism  of  Fichte,  so  far  as  it 
seeks  to  derive  all  reality  from  the  ego,  and  assumes  the  exist- 
ence of  a  real  world.  We  are  compelled  to  infer 
a  transcendent  ground  of  all  thought  and  being; 
all  particular  things  have  their  source  in  a  prin- 
ciple that  is  the  absolute  unity  of  both,  the  principle  of  identity, 
in  which  all  differences  and  oppositions  are  resolved.  We  know 
the  nature  of  things  themselves  and  not  merely  phenomena,  as 
Kant  had  taught.  But  owing  to  the  perceptual  nature  of  our 
thinking,  we  cannot  reach  an  adequate  knowledge  of  the  origi- 
nal source  of  things ;  thought  moves  in  opposites  and  can  never 
realize  absolute  identity.  The  problem  is  to  know  the  absolute 
principle,  the  identity  of  thought  and  being,  God ;  but  the  very 
nature  of  this  principle  precludes  all  possibility  of  rational 
knowledge.  It  can  never  be  realized,  but  only  approximated: 
conceptual  thinking  can  never  free  itself  from  differences  and 
opposites,  whereas  the  ultimate  ground  is  without  differences  and 
opposites.  Hence,  philosophy  is  not  Science,  but  Wissen- 


460  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

schaftslehre,  Science  of  Knowledge:  it  is  the  art  of  thinking, 
or  dialectics;  it  is  the  product  of  social  or  cooperative  thought 
and  teaches  us  how  to  approximate  to  the  goal.  Nor  can  we 
reach  an  adequate  knowledge  of  God  through  practical  reason, 
in  the  Kantian  way.  The  fact  is,  Schleiermacher  already  pos- 
sesses his  touchstone  of  truth  in  his  notion  of  God,  and  on  this 
his  conception  of  knowledge  depends:  human  intelligence,  with 
its  habit  of  pulling  things  apart,  cannot  comprehend  the  unity 
of  the  divine  nature. 

We  realize  the  ideal  only  in  religious  feeling  or  in  divining 
intuition;  in  feeling  we  come  into  direct  relation  with  God: 
the  absolute  unity  or  identity  of  thought  and  being,  which  we 
cannot  define  in  conceptual  terms,  is  immediately  experienced 
in  self-consciousness.  Religion  is  the  feeling  of  absolute  de- 
pendence on  an  absolute  world-ground ;  it  is  the  immediate  con- 
sciousness that  everything  finite  is  infinite  and  owes  its  exist- 
ence to  the  infinite,  that  everything  temporal  is  eternal  and 
rests  in  the  eternal.  Schleiermacher  opposes  the  shallow  ra- 
tionalism of  the  Aufkldrung  with  its  theological  proofs,  as  well 
as  the  orthodox  utilitarian  conception  of  God  as  the  dispenser 
of  rewards  and  punishments,  and,  likewise,  refuses  to  ground 
religion  on  ethical  conviction,  as  Kant  and  Fichte  had  done. 
According  to  him,  religion  does  not  consist  in  theoretical  dog- 
mas or  rationalistic  proofs,  any  more  than  in  acts  of  worship 
and  moral  conduct.  Since  God  cannot  be  known,  theology  must 
be  a  theory  of  religious  feeling;  its  function  is  to  formulate 
and  to  bring  to  clear  consciousness  the  implications  of  religious 
feeling. 

This  Schleiermacher  proceeds  to  do  in  his  theology,  which 
represents  a  fusion  of  Spinozism  and  idealism  that  was  quite 
common  in  Germany  at  the  beginning  of  the  nine- 
World116  d  teenth  century.  The  Absolute  is  conceived  or- 
the  Individual  ganicaUy>  in  analogy  with  the  human  mind,  as 
unity  in  diversity,  as  the  identity  of  thought  and 
being.  Schleiermacher  did  not  consistently  carry  out  the  Spino- 
zistic  idea,  but  attempted  to  combine  his  pantheism  with  dualism. 
God  and  the  world  are  one,  true ;  but  things  are  not  mere  essence- 
less  forms;  the  world  has  a  relative  independence.  A  legiti- 
mate theory  of  the  universe  must  affirm  the  inseparableness  of 


FRIEDRICH  SCHLEIERMACHER  461 

God  and  the  world, — God  has  never  been  without  a  world,  nor 
the  world  apart  from  God, — an«l  yet  it  must  distinguish  between 
the  idea  of  God  and  the  idea  of  the  world:  God  is  a  spaceless 
and  timeless  unity ;  the  world,  a  spatial-temporal  plurality. 

We  cannot  ascribe  personality  to  God,  for  that  would  make 
him  finite.  Nor  can  we  attribute  infinite  thought  and  will  to 
him,  for  these  terms  contradict  each  other;  all  thinking  and 
willing  are  by  their  very  nature  necessarily  finite.  God  is  the 
universal  creative  force,  the  source  of  all  life:  so  Herder, 
Goethe,  Fichte,  and  Schelling  had  interpreted  the  Spinozistic 
substance. 

The  relation  of  the  individual  to  the  Absolute  is  conceived  in 
a  way  to  preserve  some  measure  of  freedom  and  independence 
to  the  former.  The  individual  egos  are  self-determining  princi- 
ples: freedom  means  (as  for  Leibniz)  the  natural  evolution  of 
individual  capacity  or  endowment.  Yet,  they  are  imbedded  in 
the  universal  substance,  as  it  were;  they  are  articulate  mem- 
bers  of  the  universe,  and  as  such  their  individual  nature  must 
conform  to  the  universe.  Each  particular  ego,  however,  has  its 
specific  talent  or  gift ;  it  occupies  a  place  in  the  whole  of  things 
that  is  absolutely  necessary,  and  must,  therefore,  give  expres- 
sion to  its  own  individuality  in  order  that  the  nature  of  the 
whole  may  be  realized.  The  high  value  which  Schleiermacher 
places  on  personality,  and  his  insistence  on  self-development  and 
self-expression,  are  characteristic  of  the  Romantic  tendencies  in 
German  thought.  It  is  this  individualistic  bent  which,  in  spite 
of  the  feeling  of  absolute  dependence,  prevented  him  from  sink- 
ing the  human  soul  in  the  universal  substance,  and  which  gave 
rise  to  his  individualistic  ethics.  He  had  little  sympathy  with 
Kant's  rigoristic  morality  and  the  dualism  between  reason  and 
nature,  a  dualism  which  can  never  be  bridged  unless  the  sub- 
jective will  and  the  objective  will  are  united  in  the  original 
natural  will. 

Reason  and  will  exist  in  nature  as  well  as  in  man ;  morality 
is  a  higher  development  of  something  that  already  manifests  it- 
self in  nature  in  a  lower  form.  The  reason  immanent  in  nature 
is  identical  with  that  of  the  self-conscious  subject:  there  is  no 
irreconcilable  conflict  between  the  natural  law  and  the  moral 
law.  The  ideal  is  not  the  destruction  of  the  lower  impulses,  but 


4C2  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  unfolding  of  the  individual's  peculiar  nature  in  the  har- 
mony of  the  whole.  The  ethical  value  of  the  acts  of  each  per- 
sonality consists  in  their  uniqueness :  hence,  be  a  unique  person 
and  act  in  accordance  with  your  own  peculiar  nature.  Even 
in  religion  the  individual  should  be  left  free  to  express  himself 
in  his  own  unique  and  intimate  way.  This  teaching  is  not  to 
be  interpreted  as  a  selfish  individualism;  for,  according  to 
Schleiermacher,  the  consciousness  of  the  value  of  one's  own  per- 
sonality carries  with  it  the  appreciation  of  the  worth  of  others. 
The  sense  of  universality  (der  allgemeine  Sinn)  is  the  highest 
condition  of  one's  own  perfection.  Hence,  the  ethical  life  is  a 
life  in  society,  in  a  society  of  unique  individuals  who  respect 
humanity  in  its  uniqueness,  whether  in  themselves  or  in  others. 
"  The  more  each  becomes  like  the  universe,  the  more  fully  he 
communicates  himself  to  others,  the  more  perfect  will  be  the 
unity  of  all ;  .  .  .  rising  above  themselves  and  triumphing  over 
themselves,  they  are  on  the  way  to  true  immortality  and  eter- 
nity." It  is  the  religious  feeling,  however,  that  illuminates 
one 's  entire  life  and  brings  unity  into  it.  In  the  feeling  of  piety 
man  recognizes  that  his  desire  to  be  a  unique  personality  is  in 
harmony  with  the  action  of  the  universe;  "  religion  regards  all 
events  in  the  world  as  the  acts  of  God. ' '  Personal  immortality 
is  out  of  the  question ;  the  immortality  of  religion  consists  in 
becoming  one  with  the  infinite ;  to  be  immortal  is  ' '  to  be  eternal 
in  every  moment  of  time." 


61.    GEORG  WILHELM  HEGEL 

Both  Fichte  and  Schelling  had  proceeded  from  Kantian  pre- 
suppositions :  mind  is  the  principle  of  knowledge ;  all  philosophy 
is  ultimately  a  philosophy  of  mind,  in  which  form:? 
and  cateS°ries  constitute  the  significant  fact.  Both 
accepted  the  dynamic  view  of  reality :  for  both  thii 
ideal  principle  is  an  active  living  process.  And,  in  spite  of 
Romantic  tendencies,  both  employed  the  logical  method,  seeking 
to  explain  the  world  of  experience  by  exhibiting  the  condition* 
without  which  such  experience  would  be  impossible.  We  havB 
seen  how  Schelling  modified  Fichte 's  earlier  view,  or  at  least 
elaborated  it  in  several  important  respects.  We  may  say  that 


GEORG  WILHELM  HEGEL          463 

in  Schelling  philosophy  again  becomes  metaphysics:  nature  and 
mind  are  conceived  as  progressive  stages  in  the  evolution  of  an 
absolute  principle  that  expresses  itself  in  the  inorganic  and 
organic  realms,  in  individual  and  social  life,  in  history,  science, 
and  art.  The  results  of  critical  epistemology  are  applied  in 
ontology;  the  necessary  forms  of  thought  are  regarded  also  as 
necessary  forms  of  being.  Nature  takes  an  important  place  in 
his  thinking:  unconscious  processes  are  at  work,  not  only  in  the 
so-called  inanimate  sphere,  but  in  history,  society,  and  the  hu- 
man mind  as  well.  The  rigorous  logical  method  followed  by 
Schelling  in  some  of  his  early  writings  is  gradually  supplemented 
or  replaced:  esthetic  intuition  becomes  the  organ  of  knowledge 
and  the  aesthetic  ideal  is  set  up,  in  place  of  the  Fichtean  ethics, 
as  the  goal  of  human  development. 

Hegel  builds  on  the  foundations  laid  by  Fichte  and  Schelling. 
He  agrees  with  the  former  in  insisting  on  a  logical  method, — 
indeed,  he  undertakes  to  put  the  world-view  of  his  friend  Schel- 
ling on  a  rational  scientific  basis, — with  the  latter,  in  identifying 
logic  with  ontology  or  metaphysics;  with  both  in  conceiving 
reality  as  a  living  developing  process.  For  him,  too,  nature  and 
mind  or  reason  are  one ;  only,  he  subordinates  nature  to  reason. 
Indeed,  for  him,  all  being  and  reason  are  identical;  the  same 
process  that  is  at  work  in  reason,  is  present  everywhere ;  hence, 
whatever  is  real  is  rational,  and  whatever  is  rational  is  real. 
There  is,  therefore,  a  logic  in  nature  as  well  as  in  history,  and 
the  universe  is  at  bottom  a  logical  system.  The  Absolute,  then, 
is  not  an  undifferentiated  absolute,  "  in  which  all  cows  are 
black,"  as  Schelling  had  taught  (according  to  Hegel),  but 
reason  itself.  Nor  is  the  Absolute  so  much  a  substance  (Spi- 
noza) as  a  subject,  which  means  that  it  is  life,  process,  evolution, 
as  well  as  consciousness  and  knowledge.  All  motion  and  action, 
all  life,  are  but  an  unconscious  thinking ;  they  follow  the  law  of 
thought ;  hence,  the  more  law  there  is  in  nature,  the  more  rational 
is  its  activity.  And,  finally,  the  goal  toward  which  the  devel- 
oping Absolute  moves  is  self-consciousness ;  the  meaning  of  the 
entire  process  lies  in  its  highest  development :  in  the  realization 
of  truth  and  goodness,  in  the  realization  of  a  mind  that  knows 
the  meaning  and  purpose  of  the  universe  and  identifies  itsel/ 
with  the  universal  purpose. 


MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Georg  Wilhelm  Friedrich  Hegel  was  born  in  Stuttgart,  1770,  studied 
theology  and  philosophy  at  Tubingen  (1788-1793),  and  held  private 
tutorships  in  Switzerland  and  in  Frankfort,  from  1794  to  1801.  In 
1801  he  established  himself  at  Jena,  receiving  a  professorship  in  1805, 
which  he  was  compelled  to  relinquish  after  the  battle  of  Jena,  in  1806. 
After  serving  as  the  editor  of  a  newspaper  in  Bamberg  (1806-1808) 
and  as  director  of  the  gymnasium  at  Nuremberg  (1808-1816),  he  was 
called  to  the  professorship  of  philosophy  at  Heidelberg  and  then  to 
Berlin,  where  he  exercised  a  great  influence  and  won  many  adherents. 
.  In  1831  he  died  of  the  cholera. 

Works:  Phdnomenologie  des  Geistes,  1807;  Logik,  1812-1816;  Encyclo- 
pedic der  philosophischen  Wissenschaften,  1817;  Grundlinien  der  Phi- 
losophic des  Rechts,  1821.  His  lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy, 
^Esthetics,  Philosophy  of  Religion,  Philosophy  of  Right,  and  Philosophy 
of  History  were  published  by  his  pupils  after  his  death,  in  the  Complete 
Works,  19  vols.,  1832,  ff.  Das  Leben  Jesu,  1795,  was  published  in 
1906,  System  der  Sittlichkeit ,  1893.  New  ed.  of  separate  works  by 
G.  Lasson,  Bolland,  Drews,  and  in  Phil.  Bibl  Translations:  Logic, 
vol.  II,  by  Harris;  Encyclopedia:  Logic  and  Philosophy  of  Mind,  by 
Wallace;  Phenomenology,  by  Baillie;  Philosophy  of  Eight,  by  Dyde; 
History  of  Philosophy,  by  Haldane ;  Philosophy  of  History,  by  Sibree ; 
Philosophy  of  Religion,  by  Speirs;  Philosophy  of  Art:  Introduction, 
by  Bosanquet;  Part  II  in  J.  of  Spec.  Phil,  by  Bryant;  abridged  tr.  by 
Hastie. 

E.  Caird,  Hegel;  Hibben,  Hegel's  Logic;  W.  Wallace,  Prolegomena 
to  the  Study  of  Hegel's  Philosophy;  Stirling,  Secret  of  Hegel,  2  vols. ; 
Baillie,  Origin  and  Significance  of  Hegel's  Logic;  Harris,  Hegel's 
Logic;  McTaggart,  Commentary  on  Hegel's  Logic,  and  Studies  in  the 
Hegelian  Dialectic  and  Cosmology;  A.  Seth,  Hegelianism  and  Per- 
sonality; G.  W.  Cunningham,  Thought  and  Reality  in  Hegel's  System; 
M.  Mackenzie,  Hegel's  Educational  Theory  and  Practice;  Haym,  Hegel 
und  seine  Zeit;  K.  Fischer,  Hegel;  Ulrici,  Princip  und  Methode  der 
hegelschen  Philosophic;  Croce,  Lebendiges  und  Totes  in  Hegels  Phi- 
losophic (German  transl.) ;  Noel,  Logique  de  Hegel;  Dilthey,  Jugendge- 
schichte  Hegels;  Nohl,  Hegels  theologische  Jugendschriften;  P.  Barth, 
Geschichtsphilosophie  Hegels;  Bolland,  Hegels  Philosophie  des  Rechts, 
and  Philosophie  der  Religion;  Morris,  Hegel's  Philosophy  of  State 
and  of  History;  works  on  post-Kantian  philosophy,  pp.  396,  450. 

It  is  the  business  of  philosophy,  according  to  Hegel,  .to  know 
nature  and  the  entire  world  of  experience  as  it  is,  to  study  and 
Proble  f  comPrehend  the  reason  in  it;— not  the  superficial, 
PhUos'ophy  transitory,  and  accidental  forms,  but  its  eternal 
essence,  harmony,  and  law.  Things  have  a  mean- 
ing, the  processes  in  the  world  are  rational :  the  planetary  sys- 
tem is  a  rational  order,  the  organism  is  rational,  purposive,  full 
of  meaning  (sinnvoll).  Since  reality  is  at  bottom  rational,  a 
necessary  process  of  thoughts  or  notions,  a  logical  process,  it 


GEORG  WILHELM  HEGEL  465 

can  be  known  only  by  thought;  and  the  function  of  philosophy 
will  be  to  understand  the  laws  or  necessary  forms  according  to 
which  reason  operates.  Logic  and  metaphysics  will,  therefore, 
be  one  and  the  same.  The  world,  however,  is  not  static,  it  moves 
on,  it  is  dynamic;  so  is  thought,  or  reason;  the  notion,  or  the 
true  concept,  is  an  active,  moving  process,  a  process  of  evolution. 
In  evolution,  something  that  is  undeveloped,  undifferentiated, 
homogeneous,  as  we  should  say,  and  in  this  sense  abstract,  de- 
velops, differentiates,  splits  up,  assumes  many  different,  hence 
opposing  or  contradictory  forms,  until  at  last  we  have  a  unified, 
concrete,  particularized  object,  a  unity  in  diversity.  The  indefi- 
nite, abstract  ground  from  which  we  have  proceeded  has  become 
a  definite  concrete  reality  in  which  the  opposites  are  reconciled 
or  united  in  the  whole.  The  higher  stage  in  the  process  of  evolu- 
tion is  the  realization  of  the  lower,  it  is  really  what  the  lower 
intends  to  be;  in  this  sense,  it  is  the  truth  of  the  lower,  the 
purpose  of  the  lower,  the  meaning  of  the  lower.  What  was  im- 
plicit in  the  lower  form  becomes  explicit  or  is  made  manifest  in 
the  higher.  Every  stage  in  the  process  contains  all  the  preceding  » 
stages  and  foreshadows  all  the  future  ones:  the  world  at  every  j 
stage  is  both  a  product  and  a  prophecy.  The  lower  form  is  | 
negated  in  the  higher,  that  is,  it  is  not  what  it  was;  but  it  is 
also  preserved  in  the  higher,  it  has  been  carried  over  and  j 
sublated.  All  these  ideas  Hegel  expresses  by  the  German  word 
aufgehoben;  and  the  process,  in  the  thing,  of  passing  over  into  ^ 
its  opposites  he  calls  the  dialectical  process. 

This  is  what  Hegel  means  when  he  declares  that  contradiction 
is  the  root  of  all  life  and  movement,  that  everything  is  contra- 
diction, that  the  principle  of  contradiction  rules  the  world. 
Everything  tends  to  change,  to  pass  over  into  its  opposite.  The 
seed  has  in  it  the  impulse  to  be  something  else,  an  other:  to 
contradict  itself  and  to  transcend  itself.  Without  contradic- 
tion there  would  be  no  life,  no  movement,  no  growth,  no  devel- 
opment; everything  would  be  dead  existence,  static  externality. 
But  contradiction  is  not  the  whole  story;  nature  does  not  stop 
at  contradiction,  but  strives  to  overcome  it;  the  thing  passes 
over  into  its  opposite,  true,  but  the  movement  goes  on  and  oppo- 
sitions are  overcome  and  reconciled,  that  is,  become  parts  of  a 
unified  whole.  The  opposites  are  opposites  with  respect  to  one 


466  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

another,  but  not  with  respect  to  the  unity  or  whole  of  which 
they  form  the  parts.  Taken  by  themselves,  they  have  no  value 
or  meaning,  but  considered  as  planfully  articulated  parts  of  a 
whole, — of  a  process, — they  have  value  and  meaning.  They  are 
expressions  of  the  notion  of  the  thing,  of  its  reason  or  purpose. 
In  realizing  its  purpose,  its  notion,  or  Begriff,  the  thing  over- 
comes the  contradiction  between  its  being  and  its  notion,  between 
what  it  now  is  and  what  it  has  it  in  it  to  be.  Thus,  for  ex- 
ample, all  nature  strives  to  overcome  its  material  being,  to 
divest  itself  of  its  phenomenal  encumbrances  and  to  make  mani- 
fest its  true  essence,  to  put  on  immortality. 

Again,  the  universe  is  a  process  of  evolution,  in  which  ends 
or  purposes  are  realized,  the  purposes  of  universal  reason.  This 
is  an  organic  or  teleological  conception.  The  complete  organism 
is  the  realization  of  the  purpose  or  form  or  notion  or  concept 
of  the  organism,  the  truth  of  the  organism,  as  Hegel  would  say. 
The  important  thing  in  evolution  is  not  merely  what  existed  at 
the  beginning,  but  what  happens  or  is  made  manifest  at  the 
end.  The  truth  lies  in  the  whole,  but  the  whole  is  realized  only 
in  the  completed  process  of  evolution ;  being  is  at  the  end  what 
it  is  in  truth.  And  so  we  may  say  that  the  Absolute  is  essen- 
tially a  result;  the  result  as  such,  however,  is  not  the  complete 
whole;  the  result  together  with  the  entire  process  of  develop- 
ment is  the  true  whole;  the  thing  is  not  exhausted  in  its  pur- 
pose, but  in  its  achievement  (Ausfuhrung). 

Hence,  philosophy  is  interested  in  results ;  it  has  to  show  how 
one  result  emerges  from  the  other,  how  it  necessarily  emerges 
from  the  other.  This  movement  proceeds  unconsciously  in  na- 
ture and  even  in  history  (Schelling).  But  the  thinker  can 
become  conscious  of  the  process ;  he  may  describe  it,  rethink  the 
concepts.  He  has  reached  the  highest  stage  of  knowledge  when 
he  has  grasped  the  Idea  of  the  world,  when  he  knows  its  mean- 
ing, when  he  can  retrace  the  operations  of  the  universal  dynamic 
reason,  its  categories,  its  notions.  The  concepts  in  his  head  are 
of  the  same  nature  as  the  universal  concepts ;  the  dialectical  evo- 
lution of  the  concepts  in  the  mind  of  the  philosopher  coincides 
with  the  objective  evolution  of  the  world ;  the  categories  of  sub- 
jective thought  are  likewise  categories  of  the  universe;  thought 
and  being  are  identical. 


GEORG  WILHELM  HEGEL  467 

Now,  if  the  business  of  philosophy  is  to  follow  the  nature 
of  things,  to  tell  us  the  what,  the  why,  and  the  wherefore  of 
reality,  the  existence,  ground  or  essence,  and  pur- 
pose of  things,  its  method  must  be  suited  to  its  end.  RialuC jj cal 
The  method  must  reproduce  the  rational  process, 
or  the  course  of  evolving  reason  in  the  world.  This  object  can- 
not be  attained  by  the  artistic  intuitions  of  genius  or  in  similar 
mysterious  ways,  as  Schelling  and  others  supposed;  there  is  no 
other  way  than  that  of  hard  thinking.  Philosophy  is  conceptual 
knowledge,  Begriffswissenschaft,  as  Kant  had  declared.  But, 
Hegel  notes,  we  cannot  exhaust  reality  in  abstract  concepts; 
reality  is  a  moving  dynamic  process,  a  dialectical  process,  which 
abstract  concepts  cannot  faithfully  represent:  the  abstract  con- 
cept tells  only  a  part,  and  only  a  small  part,  of  the  story.  Real- 
ity is  now  this,  now  that ;  in  this  sense  it  is  full  of  negations, 
contradictions,  and  oppositions:  the  plant  germinates,  blooms, 
withers,  and  dies;  man  is  young,  mature,  and  old.  To  do  a 
thing  justice,  we  must  tell  the  whole  truth  about  it,  predicate 
all  these  contradictions  of  it,  and  show  how  they  are  reconciled 
and  preserved  in  the  articulated  whole  which  we  call  the  life 
of  the  thing.  Ordinary  abstract  thought  takes  the  existing  things 
in  isolation,  it  looks  upon  them  as  the  true  realities,  and  con- 
siders their  special  phases  and  oppositions  by  themselves.  The 
intellect  can  do  nothing  but  distinguish,  oppose,  and  relate; 
it  cannot  conceive  the  unity  of  opposites,  it  cannot  understand 
life  and  the  inner  purposiveness  of  things;  hence,  for  example, 
it  can  only  wonder  at  animal  instinct  and  its  works.  The  in- 
tellect looks  down  upon  the  speculative  method,  but  it  can  never 
grasp  life  as  such.  Conceived  by  themselves  or  torn  from  their 
relations,  the  contradictory  aspects  of  things  are  meaningless 
appearances ;  they  can  be  understood  only  as  parts  of  an  organic, 
articulated  system;  or,  as  Hegel  puts  it,  all  existence  has  truth 
only  in  the  Idea,  for  the  Idea  is  the  only  true  reality.  One  Idea 
pervades  the  whole  and  all  the  parts  of  the  whole;  all  particu- 
lars have  their  reality  in  this  unity.  The  activity  which  sees 
things  whole,  or  unifies  the  opposites,  is  a  higher  function  of 
mind,  which,  however,  let  it  be  remembered,  cannot  dispense 
with  the  intellect.  The  two  functions  work  hand  in  hand. 

Thought  will,  therefore,  proceed  from  the  most  simple,  ab- 


468  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

stract,  and  empty  concepts  to  the  more  complex,  concrete,  and 
richer  ones,  to  notions.  Hegel  calls  this  method,  which  we 
Already  find  indicated  in  Kant  and  employed  by  Fichte  and 
Schelling,  the  dialectical  method,  and,  with  them,  distinguishes 
in  it  three  moments  or  stages.  We  begin  with  an  abstract  uni- 
versal concept  (thesis)  ;  this  concept  gives  rise  to  a  contradic- 
tion (antithesis) ;  the  contradictory  concepts  are  reconciled  in  a 
third  concept  which,  therefore,  is  a  union  of  the  other  two  (syn- 
thesis). To  illustrate:  Parmenides  held  that  being  is  perma- 
nent, Heraclitus  that  it  is  in  constant  change,  the  Atomists  that 
it  is  neither  and  both,  that  something  is  permanent  and  some- 
thing changes.  The  new  concept,  however,  suggests  new  prob- 
lems and  contradictions,  which,  in  their  turn,  must  be  resolved 
in  other  concepts.  And  so  the  dialectical  process,  which  seeks 
to  follow  the  evolution  of  reality,  goes  on  until  we  reach  an 
ultimate  concept  or  notion  in  which  all  oppositions  are  resolved 
and  preserved.  But  no  single  concept,  not  even  the  highest, 
represents  the  whole  truth ;  all  concepts  are  only  partial  truths ; 
truth  or  knowledge  is  constituted  by  the  entire  system  of  con- 
cepts, every  one  of  which  has  evolved  from  a  basal  concept. 
Truth,  like  rational  reality  itself,  is  a  living  logical  process. 

Or  to  say  it  in  other  words :  One  thought  follows  necessarily 
from  the  other,  one  thought  provokes  a  contradictory  thought 
with  which  it  is  united  to  form  another  thought.  The  dialectical 
movement  is  the  logical  self-unfolding  of  thought.  Hegel 
speaks  as  though  thoughts  or  notions  thought  themselves:  there 
is  an  inner  necessity  in  them,  they  are  like  a  growing  organism 
that  unfolds  its  capacities  and  becomes  a  concrete  organized 
whole,  a  concrete  universal.  Hence,  all  the  thinker  has  to  do 
is  to  let  his  thought  follow  its  logical  course  in  the  manner 
described ;  since  this  process,  if  correctly  carried  on,  is  identical 
with  the  world-process,  it  will  be  a  reproduction  of  the  develop- 
ment immanent  in  things.  In  this  way,  we  can  think  God's 
thoughts  after  him. 

Speculative   or   dialectical  thinking,   then,  is   a  process  that 
seeks  to  do  justice  to  moving,  living,  organic  existence,  a  proc 
ess  in  which  differences  are  reconciled,  in  which  distinctions  ar( 
not  merely  made,  but  comprehended.     The  philosophical  notioi 
is  an  organic  unity  of  differences,  a  totality  of  parts,  a  unifiec. 


GEORG  WILHELM  HEGEL  469 

and  yet  differentiated  whole.  When  Hegel  tells  us  that  the  con- 
crete universal  notion  is  the  synthesis  of  opposites,  he  wishes 
to  describe  the  nature  of  thought  as  well  as  the 

nature  of  reality.    Being  is  what  the  Romanticists    Th?ufh.t 

£     j     £       iv        7i        a  and  Being 

were  fond  of  calling  it:  a  flowing  reality,  some- 
thing akin  to  life  and  mind.  And, — again  the  Romanti- 
cists were  right, — being  cannot  be  grasped  by  an  abstracting 
intelligence  that  catches  only  general  phases  or  glimpses  of 
it,  cuts  it  into  pieces,  and  ignores  its  organic  character.  But  it 
cannot  be  realized  by  mystical  feeling,  aesthetic  intuitions,  or 
happy  guesses.  It  is  a  rational  process,  a  process  that  has  a 
meaning  and  must  be  thought.  It  is  not  an  insane  flux,  an 
unbridled,  absolutely  meaningless  happening,  but  an  orderly 
evolution,  a  progress.  By  its  fruits  we  shall  know  it;  in  the 
light  of  the  goal  it  achieves,  all  its  seeming  oppositions  and  con- 
tradictions are  understood  and  reconciled.  Our  attempts  to  split 
up  reality  into  essence  and  appearance,  inner  and  outer,  sub- 
stance and  attribute,  force  and  its  expression,  the  infinite  and 
the  finite,  mind  and  matter,  God  and  world,  give  us  nothing 
but  false  distinctions  and  arbitrary  abstractions.  Natur  hat 
weder  Kern  noch  Schale:  the  essence  is  the  appearance,  the  inner 
is  the  outer,  the  mind  is  the  body,  God  is  the  universe,  and 
so  on. 

Reality,  then,  is  a  logical  process  of  evolution.  It  is  a  spir- 
itual process,  and  we  can,  therefore,  understand  it  only  in  so 
far  as  we  experience  such  a  process  in  ourselves.  But,  let  us 
not  forget,  it  is  not  the  particular  ideas,  the  empirical  or  psycho- 
logical content,  which  we  find  in  ourselves,  that  give  us  such 
understanding.  There  is  a  rational  necessity  in  all  thought  that 
must  be  reproduced  by  us.  Our  thinking  evolves  or  develops 
rationally;  it  moves  logically,  genetically,  dialectically :  in  this 
sense,  it  is  universal,  trans-empirical,  transcendental,  or  meta- 
physical, as  Hegel  calls  it.  Nor  is  truth  expressed  in  this  or 
that  individual,  it  manifests  itself  in  the  species,  it  grows 
out  of  the  life  of  the  race.  The  divine  mind  or  reason  expresses 
itself  in  the  evolution  of  the  racial  consciousness,  in  human  his- 
tory. But,  it  must  always  be  remembered,  only  in  so  far  as 
human  history  is  rational,  necessary,  logical,  can  we  speak  of 
it  as  expressive  of  the  divine  reason. 


470  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Hegel  calls  God  Idea,  meaning  the  potential  universe,  the 
timeless  totality  of  all  the  possibilities  of  evolution.  Spirit  or 
Mind  (Geist)  is  this  Idea  realized.  The  Idea  contains  within 
itself,  in  posse,  implicitly,  ideally,  the  entire  logical-dialectical 
process  which  unfolds  itself  in  a  world ;  in  it  all  the  laws  of  its 
evolution  are  outlined  which  express  themselves  in  the  form  of 
objective  existence.  The  Idea  is  the  creative  logos  or  reason; 
its  forms  of  action  or  categories  are  not  empty  husks  or  lifeless 
ideas,  but  objective  thoughts,  spiritual  forces  which  constitute 
the  very  essence  of  things.  The  study  of  the  creative  logos, 
in  its  necessary  evolution,  is  logic.  It  is  not  meant  by  this  teach- 
ing that  God  as  pure  thought  or  logical  Idea  existed  before 
the  creation  of  the  world ;  for  Hegel  declares  that  the  world  was 
eternally  created.  The  divine  mind  can  never  be  without  self- 
expression;  God  is  the  living  moving  reason  of  the  world,  he 
reveals  himself  in  the  world,  in  nature  and  in  history;  nature 
and  history  are  necessary  stages  in  the  evolution  of  God  into 
self-consciousness.  (The  evolution  is  not  temporal  in  the  sense 
that  there  ever  was  a  time  when  there  was  no  evolution.  The 
Absolute  is  eternally  that  into  which  it  develops:  the  categories 
are  eternally  potential  in  it,  they  have  never  evolved  out  of 
nothing.  Nevertheless,  the  categories  are  developed  successively, 
one  after  the  other,  one  being  the  condition  of  the  other.)  God 
is  not  absorbed  in  the  world,  nor  the  world  absorbed  in  God; 
without  the  world  God  is  not  God,  he  cannot  be  without  creating 
a  world,  without  knowing  himself  in  his  other.  There  must  be 
unity  and  opposition  in  the  Absolute :  God  is  not  separate  from 
the  world.  The  finite  world  could  not  exist  without  the  Idea, 
it  is  not  an  independent  thing  and  has  no  real  being  without 
God :  whatever  truth  it  has  it  owes  to  God.  Just  as  in  our  minds 
thoughts  and  feelings  come  and  pass  away  without  exhausting 
the  mind,  so  the  phenomena  of  nature  come  and  go  without 
exhausting  the  divine  mind.  And  just  as  our  mind  is  enriched 
and  enlarged  by  its  thoughts  and  experiences,  and  rises  to  fuller 
and  fuller  self-consciousness  in  and  through  them,  so  the  divine 
Idea  is  enriched  by  its  self-expressions  in  nature  and  history, 
and  rises  through  them  to  self-consciousness,  becoming  for  itself 
what  it  was  in  itself.  In  the  rhythmical  process  of  self-alienation 
and  self-deliverance,  the  universal  mind  realizes  its  destiny:  it 


GEORG  WILHELM  HEGEL  471 

thinks  itself  in  its  object  and  so  comes  to  know  its  own  essence. 
The  Absolute  becomes  conscious  only  in  evolution,  and  above  all 
in  man.  Hegel,  therefore,  does  not  mean  that  God,  or  the  logical 
Idea,  exists  as  a  self-conscious  logical  process  before  the  creation 
of  the  world, — he  cannot  be  conscious  without  a  world; — he  is 
a  developing  God  and  becomes  fully  self-conscious  only  in  the 
minds  of  human  beings  who  make  explicit  the  logical-dialectical 
process  that  lies  implicit  in  the  universal  absolute  reason. 

From  all  this  it  must  appear  that  logic  is  the  basal  science, 
since  it  reproduces  the  divine  thought-process  as  it  is  in  itself. 
Dialectical  thought  expresses  the  innermost  essence 
of  the  universal  mind ;  in  such  thinking  the  uni-  Jrf^ 
versal  mind  knows  itself  as  it  is ;  here  thought  and 
being,  subject  and  object,  form  and  content  are  one.  The  forms 
or  categories  of  thought  which  logic  evolves  are  identical  with 
the  forms  of  reality:  they  have  both  logical  and  ontological  or 
metaphysical  value.  In  the  essence  of  things  thought  recognizes 
its  own  essence,  seeing  it  as  in  a  mirror.  Reason  is  the  same 
everywhere,  and  everywhere  the  divine  reason  is  at  work:  the 
universe,  or  that  which  is  real  and  eternal  in  it,  is  the  result 
of  the  thought  of  God.  Hence  it  makes  no  difference  where  we 
begin:  whether  we  study  reason,  the  dialectical  process,  in  our- 
selves (logic)  or  in  the  universe  (metaphysics),  we  shall  always 
reach  the  same  results.  In  logical  thinking,  pure  thought  may 
be  said  to  study  itself,  thinker  and  thought  are  one ;  and  in  it, 
also,  the  thinker  develops  with  his  thinking.  The  other  sciences 
are  applications  of  logic:  the  philosophy  of  nature  studies  the 
Absolute,  or  universal  reason,  in  its  otherness>  in  its  self- 
objectification  or  self-alienation;  the  philosophy  of  mind  shows 
how  reason  overcomes  objective  nature,  returns  to  itself,  as  it 
were,  or  evolves  into  self-consciousness. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  in  all  these  cases  of  the  revelation  of 
reason,  whether  as  nature  or  mind,  reason  appears  in  an  infinite 
variety  of  temporal  and  transitory  forms.  These  accidental 
shapes  showing  on  the  surface  are  not  the  object  of  philosophy. 
It  is  the  business  of  philosophy  to  understand  the  reason  in 
things,  the  essence  or  substance  of  nature  and  mind,  the  eternal 
harmony  and  order,  the  immanent  law  and  essence  of  nature, 
the  meaning  or  rationale  of  human  institutions  and  of  history, 


472  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  eternal  element  shining  through  the  temporal  and  accidental, 
the  inner  pulse  beating  in  the  external  shapes.  Moreover,  this 
reason  in  things  we  can  know  only  conceptually,  through  the 
notion,  through  dialectical  or  logical  thought;  hence,  the  only 
knowledge  worthy  of  the  name  is  a  priori  or  philosophical  knowl- 
edge: philosophy  of  nature,  philosophy  of  right,  philosophy  of 
history. 

Logic  deals  with  concepts,  it  shows  how  one  concept  springs 
from  the  other,  that  there  is  a  necessary  evolution  in  thinking, 
that  if  we  think  correctly,  we  are  bound  to  pass 
Philosophy       from  stage  to   stage  until   we   reach   the  highest 


of  ,N^ye         stage,  the  culmination  and  completion  of  the  proc- 
and  Philoso-  ___.  *L  . 

phy  of  Mind     ess>  the  epitome  of  all  the  others.    When  we  think 

these  concepts,  we  are  in  the  world  of  true  reality, 
the  eternal,  imperishable  process  of  the  universe.  The  system  of 
concepts  which  we  think  in  logic,  forms  an  organic  whole  and 
represents  the  true  essence  of  things.  It  is  not  merely  some- 
thing in  our  heads  ;  we  find  it  revealed  in  the  world-process,  in 
nature  and  in  mind,  in  the  individual  mind  and  in  the  social 
mind,  in  the  history  of  the  world  and  in  human  institutions.  In 
logic,  however,  we  envisage  reason  in  its  purity,  in  its  naked- 
ness, as  it  were;  in  this  sense,  it  is  a  shadow-  world  of  essence- 
less  forms,  the  logical  Idea,  God  before  he  created  the  world. 
It  is  a  shadow-world  because  it  lacks  substance  or  body,  because 
it  is  naked  thought,  because  it  is  not  clothed  in  the  garments  of 
a  universe.  This  is  what  Hegel  means  when  he  states  that  logic 
has  no  actual  being,  that  it  is  never  actualized  except  in  the 
thinking  of  man:  outside  of  human  thinking,  universal  reason 
is  more  than  pure  thought.  We  are  not  concerned,  in  logic, 
with  its  revelations,  with  nature,  history,  society,  but  with  a 
system  of  truths,  a  world  of  ideas,  as  it  is  in  itself.  But  we 
can  also  study  it  in  its  revelations,  we  can  see  how  this  skeleton. 
or  framework,  takes  on  flesh  and  blood,  or,  rather,  we  can  see 
it  in  flesh  and  blood.  In  nature,  reason  reveals  itself  in  its 
otherness,  in  its  externality  and  succession,  in  space  and  time. 
We  cannot  truly  say  that  the  logical  Idea  passes  over  into  na- 
ture :  the  logical  Idea  is  nature,  nature  is  a  form  of  the  logical 
Idea,  it  is  the  Idea  in  its  spatial  and  temporal  form.  Nature 
is  reason,  it  is  conceptual,  it  is  the  Begriff  in  its  "  side-by- 


GEORG  WILHELM  HEGEL  473 

sideness,"  the  notion  in  the  form  of  extension.  Hegel  calls  it 
petrified  intelligence,  an  unconscious  intelligence,  concepts 
spread-out,  so  to  speak.  Moreover,  nature  is  a  stage  of  transi- 
tion through  which  the  logical  Idea  passes,  in  its  evolution  into 
mind  or  spirit  (Geist).  That  is,  the  Idea,  which  embodies  itself 
or  is  externalized  in  nature,  returns  into  itself  and  becomes 
mind,  or  spirit:  in  mind  the  Idea  reveals  itself  to  itself. 

Mind  or  spirit  passes  through  dialectical  stages  of  evolution, 
revealing  itself  as  subjective  mind,  objective  mind,  and  absolute 
mind.  Subjective  mind  expresses  itself  as  soul  (mind  dependent 
on  nature),  consciousness  (mind  opposed  to  nature),  and  spirit 
(mind  reconciled  with  nature  in  knowledge)  :  corresponding  to 
these  stages,  Hegel  has  the  sciences  of  anthropology,  phe- 
nomenology, and  psychology.  The  Idea,  or  universal  reason, 
becomes  soul  in  the  animal  organism.  It  embodies  itself,  creates 
a  body  for  itself,  becomes  a  particular,  individual  soul,  the  func- 
tion and  vocation  of  which  is  to  exercise  its  peculiar  individu- 
ality; it  is  an  unconscious  production.  This  soul,  which  has 
fashioned  an  organic  body  for  itself,  becomes  conscious  of  itself, 
distinguishes  itself  from  its  body;  consciousness  is  an  evolution 
from  the  very  principle  of  which  the  body  is  the  expression. 
The  function  of  consciousness  is  knowing.  It  rises  from  a  purely 
objective  stage,  in  which  it  regards  the  sensible  object  as  the 
most  real  and  truest  thing,  to  a  stage  in  which  reason  is  con- 
ceived as  the  innermost  essence  of  both  self-consciousness  and 
objective  reality.  Mind  or  spirit  (Geist)  in  the  highest  sense 
unites  both  functions:  it  is  productive  knowing.  We  really 
know  only  what  we  create  or  produce.  The  objects  of  the  spirit 
are  its  own  products;  hence,  its  essence,  especially  that  of 
theoretical  spirit,  consists  in  knowing.  Spirit  or  intelligence 
immersed  in  the  object  is  perception.  No  one  can  speak  or  write 
illuminatingly  of  an  object  without  living  in  it  spiritually,  i.e., 
without  intuiting  it  in  the  true  sense  of  the  terra.  Knowledge 
is  completed  in  the  pure  thinking  of  conceiving  reason.  Presen- 
tation (Vorstellung,  memory,  imagination,  association)  is  the 
mean  between  perception  and  reason.  Reason  evolves  or  un- 
folds concepts,  i.e.,  conceives  by  pure  thought  the  self-develop- 
ment of  concepts.  The  understanding  or  intellect  judges 
(urteilt),  that  is,  separates  the  elements  of  the  concept;  reason 


474  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

concludes,  that  is,  binds  together  the  elements  of  the  concept. 
In  the  development  of  pure  thought,  theoretical  intelligence  sees 
through  itself,  knows  itself;  it  becomes  reason  recognizing 
itself. 

Intelligence  or  reason  is  the  sole  ground  of  its  development; 
hence,  the  result  of  its  self-knowledge  is  the  knowledge  that  its 
essence  is  self-determination  or  will  or  practical  spirit.  Will 
appears  as  a  particular  subject  or  natural  individual,  striving  for 
the  satisfaction  of  his  needs  or  deliverance  from  his  ills.  The 
will  immersed  in  its  impulses  is  unfree. 

The  Idea,  or  universal  reason,  expresses  itself  not  only  in  na- 
ture or  in  individuals,  but  in  human  institutions  and  in  history, 
in  right  or  law  (property,  contract,  punishment), 
Philosophy  -n  mora}jty  or  conscience,  in  custom  (Sitte)  or 
ethical  observances  (family,  civic  society,  State). 
In  these  institutions  and  in  history  reason  realizes  itself  or 
becomes  actual,  i.e.,  appears  in  external  form;  in  this  sense  it 
is  called  objective  reason.  The  reason  which  has  produced  hu- 
man institutions  is  the  same  as  that  which  seeks  to  understand 
them :  the  reason  which  has  unconsciously  evolved  law,  custom, 
and  the  State  becomes  conscious  of  the  process  in  the  philosophy 
of  right.  It  is  not  the  business  of  such  a  philosophy  to  tell  us 
what  the  State  ought  to  be,  but  to  know  it  as  it  is,  that  is,  to 
exhibit  the  reason  immanent  in  it;  and  that  can  only  be  done 
by  dialectical  thinking.  It  is  the  function  of  philosophy  to  show 
how  rational  institutions  follow  from  the  very  Idea  or  nature 
of  right  or  justice.  In  studying  institutions,  it  is  possible  to 
explain  them  historically,  to  show  to  what  conditions,  circum- 
stances, and  so  forth,  they  owe  their  existence.  But  such  a, 
causal  explanation  is  not  the  true  philosophical  explanation;  it 
is  one  thing  to  trace  the  historical  evolution  of  institutions,  to 
point  out  the  circumstances,  needs,  events,  which  led  to  their 
establishment;  another,  to  demonstrate  the  justice  in  them  and 
their  rational  necessity.  We  can  understand  the  reason  of  right, 
law,  custom,  State,  only  when  we  understand  the  notion  of  tht 
thing  (den  Begriff  der  Sache). 

Objective  reason  is  realized  in  a  society  of  free  individuals  IE 
which  the  individual  wills  the  laws  and  customs  of  his  people, 
In  such  a  society  the  individual  subordinates  his  subjective  con- 


GEORG  WILHELM  HEGEL          475 

science  (morality)  to  universal  reason;  in  custom  or  the  ethical 
observances  of  his  people  (Sitte)  he  finds  his  universal  and  true 
self  expressed:  he  recognizes  in  the  laws  his  own  will  and  in 
himself  a  particularized  expression  of  the  laws.  The  evolution 
of  the  ethical  spirit  into  a  community  of  self-conscious  individ- 
uals is  the  result  of  the  evolution  of  active  reason.  After  many 
experiences  in  society,  the  individual  learns  that  in  willing  a 
universal  cause  he  is  willing  his  own  will,  or  is  free.  The  real 
and  the  ideal  are  one  here:  individual  reason  accepts  universal 
reason  as  its  own;  the  individual  abandons  his  subjectivity  and 
subordinates  his  individual  reason  to  the  universal  reason,  which 
expresses  itself  in  the  Volksgeist,  in  the  consciousness  of  a 
people,  in  the  national  mind:  this  is  Sittlichkeit.  The  perfect 
State,  which  realizes  perfect  freedom,  is  the  goal  and  purpose 
of  universal  history:  progress  means  the  development  of  the 
consciousness  of  freedom.  The  various  peoples  and  the  great 
historical  personalities  are  the  instruments  by  which  the  uni- 
versal spirit  realizes  its  ends:  every  great  people  has  a  mission 
to  perform  in  the  divine  evolution  and  can  be  understood  only 
in  the  light  of  the  total  development.  When  it  has  accom- 
plished the  purpose  of  its  existence,  it  makes  way  for  other 
stronger  nations.  The  conquest  of  one  nation  by  another  is  a 
confession  that  the  Idea  for  which  the  one  stands  is  subordinate 
to  that  of  the  victorious  people :  here  might  makes  right,  physical 
power  and  rational  justice  coincide.  War,  in  so  far  as  it  is  a 
war  of  ideas,  is  justified  by  Hegel  on  the  assumption  that  the 
stronger  cause  will  defeat  the  weaker  and  that  the  progress  of 
humanity  is  furthered  by  physical  and  moral  conflict:  Die 
Weltgeschichte  ist  das  Weltgericht.  Providence,  or  universal 
reason,  also  makes  use  of  the  passions  and  private  interests  of 
individuals  to  realize  universal  ends:  this  is  the  strategy  of  the 
Idea ;  great  men  are  the  executives  of  Reason.  In  his  Philosophy 
of  History  Hegel  tries  to  show  how  the  universal  spirit  realizes 
the  purposes  prescribed  by  the  dialectical  evolution  of  its 
essence. 

In  none  of  the  preceding  stages  of  the  development  of  mind, 
however,  does  the  universal  mind  come  to  know  itself  as  it  is, 
or  reach  the  highest  plane  of  self -consciousness  and  freedom. 
In  none  of  them  can  it  be  said  that  thought  and  being,  subject 


476  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

and  object,  are  one,  or  that  all  the  oppositions  are  fully  recon- 
ciled.    The  supreme  stage  in  the  evolution  of  the  logical  Idea 

is  the  Absolute  Mind,  whose  sole  purpose  and  work 
Art,  Reli-  consist  in  making  manifest  to  itself  its  own  nature, 
Philosophy  and  which  is>  therefore,  free  and  unlimited  spirit. 

Every  particular  subject  as  a  truly  knowing  subject 
is  such  an  absolute  subject.  The  Absolute  Mind  likewise  passes 
through  three  stages:  revealing  itself  in  the  art,  the  religion, 
and  the  philosophy  of  the  human  mind.  The  Absolute  Mind  ex- 
presses its  essence  or  truth  in  the  form  of  intuition  (Anschauung) 
in  art;  in  the  form  of  presentation  or  imagination  (Vorstel- 
lung)  in  religion;  in  the  form  of  conception  or  pure  logical 
thought  (Begriff)  in  philosophy.  The  mind  perceiving  its  inner 
essence  in  perfect  freedom  is  art,  the  mind  imaging  it  reverently 
is  religion,  the  mind  conceiving  and  knowing  it  in  thought  is 
philosophy.  "  Philosophy  too  has  no  other  object  than  God 
and  is,  therefore,  essentially  rational  theology,  as  well  as  an 
enduring  worship  of  God  in  the  service  of  truth."  Every  one 
of  these  forms  realizes  itself  in  the  dialectical  process  of  evolu- 
tion and  has  its  history:  the  history  of  art,  the  history  of  reli- 
gion, and  the  history  of  philosophy. 

In  the  history  of  philosophy  every  great  system  has  its  neces- 
sary place  and  represents  a  necessary  stage  in  logical  develop- 
ment. Each  system  provokes  an  opposing  one ;  the  contradiction 
is  reconciled  in  a  higher  synthesis,  which,  in  turn,  gives  rise 
to  new  conflicts,  and  so  on.  The  Hegelian  philosophy, — so  its 
author  believes, — represents  the  final  synthesis  in  which  the 
Absolute  Mind  becomes  conscious  of  itself:  it  recognizes  the 
content  of  its  being  in  the  historical  development  through  which 
it  has  passed. 

From  1820  to  1840  Hegel's  system  was  the  reigning  philosophy 
.in  Germany.  It  enjoyed  the  favor  of  the  Prussian  State,  and 
had  representatives  in  nearly  every  German  uni- 
versity.  What  made  it  particularly  attractive  to 
many  thinkers  was  its  logical  method, — which 
seemed  to  avoid  both  the  rigid  abstractions  of  rationalism  and 
the  easy  fancies  of  mysticism, — its  claim  to  absolute  certainty, 
and  its  apparent  success  in  overcoming  difficulties  and  solving 


GEORG  WILHELM  HEGEL  477 

problems  in  nearly  every  field  of  human  study.  After  the  death 
of  the  master,  the  school  divided  into  conservative  and  liberal 
groups.  Differences  arose  with  regard  to  theological  questions, — 
God,  Christ,  and  immortality, — upon  which  Hegel  had  not  ex- 
pressed himself  definitely.  The  conservatives  interpreted  the 
system  in  the  orthodox  supernaturalistic  sense,  as  teaching  the- 
ism, personal  immortality,  and  an  incarnate  God  (Hinrichs, 
Goeschel,  Gabler),  while  the  liberals,  the  so-called  Young 
Hegelians,  held  to  a  spiritualistic  pantheism:  God  is  the  uni- 
versal substance  which  becomes  conscious  in  mankind.  Mind 
as  such  is  eternal,  that  is,  the  universal  mind,  not  the  individual 
mind.  The  incarnation  of  God  in  Christ  is  interpreted  as  the 
expression  of  the  divine  in  humanity.  To  this  wing  belonged 
Richter,  Euge, — also,  for  a  time,  B.  Bauer,  D.  Strauss,  and  L. 
Feuerbach.  Some  of  the  liberal  Hegelians  eventually  went  over 
to  naturalism,  among  them  B.  Bauer,  Strauss,  and  Feuerbach. 
Hostile  to  Hegelianism,  yet  in  sympathy  with  the  theistic  views 
of  the  right  wing,  were  C.  H.  Weisse,  J.  H.  Fichte,  and  H.  M. 
Chalybaeus. 

The  early  socialists  (Marx  and  Lassalle),  with  their  economic 
interpretation  of  history,  also  based  themselves  on  Hegelian 
premises.  What  was  once  rational,  they  reasoned,  becomes  irra- 
tional in  the  process  of  evolution :  private  property,  which  was 
once  right  and  rational,  will  be  superseded  and  overcome  in 
socialism  as  a  result  of  the  dialectical-logical  process  of  history. 

The  impetus  which  Hegel  gave  to  the  study  of  the  history  of 
philosophy  and  the  history  of  religion  produced  a  school  of 
great  historians  of  philosophy  (Trendelenburg,  Ritter,  Brandis, 
J.  E.  Erdmann,  E.  Zeller,  Kuno  Fischer,  W.  Windelband)  and 
of  religion  (0.  Pfleiderer).  He  likewise  exercised  a  great  influ- 
ence on  the  philosophy  of  history,  the  study  of  jurisprudence, 
politics,  and  indeed  on  all  the  mental  sciences. 

For  the  period  after  Hegel  see:  Siebert,  Geschichte  der  neuern 
deutschen  Philosophic  nach  Hegel;  Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  tit.,  Part  III, 
vol.  II;  Kiilpe,  Philosophy  of  the  Present  in  Germany,  transl.  by  Q. 
Patrick ;  and  works  on  p.  396. 


478  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

GERMAN  PHILOSOPHY  AFTER  HEGEL 
62.   REALISM  OF  JOHANN  FRIEDRICH  HERBART 

The  Hegelian  philosophy,  however,  likewise  aroused  great 
opposition  and  gave  rise  to  reactionary  movements,  the  most 

extreme  of  which  rejected  all  metaphysics  as  a  fu- 
Opposition  to  tile  un(jertaking.  Every  phase  of  the  new  German 

movement  was  subjected  to  attack:  its  idealism, 
its  pantheism,  its  rationalism,  and  its  a  priori  methods.  Some 
thinkers  insisted  on  exacter  scientific  methods,  and  reached  re- 
sults at  variance  with  the  new  philosophy :  realism  and  pluralism. 
Others  refused  to  follow  the  view  that  the  world  was  rational 
and  pointed  out  the  irrational  elements  in  reality  of  which 
philosophy  would  have  to  take  account.  Still  others,  following 
in  the  wake  of  mysticism,  faith-philosophy,  and  intuitionism, 
sought  the  answer  to  the  world-riddle  in  other  functions  of  the 
mind  than  reason.  The  two  greatest  opponents  of  the  so-called 
speculative  philosophy  are  Herbart  and  Schopenhauer:  both  of 
them  regard  themselves  as  the  true  successors  of  Kant,  both  are 
interested  in  the  natural  sciences,  and  both  seek  a  basis  for  their 
thought  in  the  facts  of  experience.  Both  offer  systems  of  meta- 
physics :  Herbart  a  pluralistic  realism  that  harks  back  to  Leibniz ; 
Schopenhauer  a  pantheistic  idealism  that  resembles  Schelling's 
Natur philosophic  and  a  voluntarism  that  is  reminiscent  of 
Fichte's  philosophy  and  Schelling's  later  view. 

Among  the  works  of  Herbart  are:  Einleitung  in  die  Philosophic, 
1813 ;  Psychologic  als  Wissenschaft,  1824-1825 ;  Allgemeine  Metaphysik, 
1828-1829;  Allgemeine  Padagogik,  1806;  Allgemeine  praktische  Philo- 
sophic, 1808.  Complete  works,  by  Hartenstein,  13  vols.,  2d  ed.,  1883- 
1893 ;  by  Kehrbach,  15  vols.,  1887,  ff . ;  pedagogical  works  by  Willmann, 
2  vols.,  2d  ed.,  1880.  Transl.  of  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic,  by  M.  K. 
Smith.  Works  on  Herbart  by  Kinkel,  Franke,  Wagner,  Striimpell, 
Lipps,  Kaftan,  Drobisch.  Cf.  Ribot,  Contemporary  German  Psychology, 
transl.  by  Baldwin,  and  the  histories  of  psychology. 

In  Johann  Friedrich  Herbart  (1776-1841)  we  have  an  inde- 
pendent critical  thinker  who  opposes  the  entire  idealistic  move- 
ment, as  it  had  developed  in  Germany  after  Kant.  He  had  al- 
ready studied  his  Kant  and  the  pre-Kantian  rationalists  before  hi 
came  to  Jena,  where  he  heard  Fichte  (1794)  and  afterward  served 


REALISM  OF  HERBART  479 

as  private  decent  and  professor  (1802-1809).  He  regarded  the 
new  philosophy  as  an  aberration  from  the  principles  laid  down  by 
the  great  criticist  of  Kb'nigsberg  (to  whose  chair 
he  was  called  in  1809),  and  once  spoke  of  himself  Realistic 
as  a  Kantian  of  the  year  1828.  He  attacks  its 
methods  and  its  results,  and  reaches  conclusions 
directly  opposed  to  those  of  the  reigning  school  on  nearly 
every  important  point.  We  cannot,  in  his  opinion,  deduce 
reality  from  a  principle:  such  principles  come  at  the  end  and 
not  at  the  beginning  of  philosophy.  We  cannot  reduce  being 
to  one  single  ground,  hence  monism  and  pantheism  are  out  of 
the  question.  Indeed,  knowledge  of  the  ultimate  essence  of 
things,  that  is,  of  things-in-themselves,  is  impossible:  metar 
physics,  in  the  Hegelian  sense,  is  a  dream.  Yet  things-in- 
themselves  exist,  not  one,  but  many ;  and  the  world  is  not  merely 
our  idea.  Herbart  opposes  the  rationalistic  method,  apriorism, 
monism,  pantheism,  subjective  idealism,  and  free  will,  and  sub- 
stitutes for  these  doctrines  empiricism,  pluralism,  realism,  and 
determinism. 

Outside  of  experience,  he  tells  us,  there  is  no  hope  of  progress 
in  knowledge.  It  is  the  business  of  philosophy  to  begin  with 
the  general  concepts  of  experience  and  of  the  sciences,  with  the 
thoughts  which  have  been  unconsciously  evolved  by  the  race. 
Such  concepts  we  must  examine  with  the  help  of  formal  logic, 
whose  function  it  is  to  make  their  meaning  clear  and  distinct, 
and  to  point  out  their  inconsistencies,  if  such  there  be.  Phi- 
losophy in  general,  therefore,  consists  in  the  elaboration  of  con- 
cepts: in  analyzing  them,  comparing  them,  and  attempting  to 
harmonize  them.  Logic  finds  difficulties,  inconsistencies,  con- 
tradictions in  what  seem  to  be  our  simplest,  clearest,  and  most 
distinct  concepts,  in  such  concepts  as  thing,  change,  becoming, 
matter,  self -consciousness:  all  of  them  contain  nests  of  contra- 
dictions. A  thing,  for  example,  in  ordinary  thought,  is  a  corn- 
plexus  of  qualities :  gold  is  heavy,  yet  fusible ;  one  thing  is  many 
things,  a  unity  is  a  plurality.  Herbart  holds  that  nothing  can 
be  real  that  is  contradictory,  thus  restoring  the  old-time  logical 
principle  of  contradiction  to  its  former  place  of  honor  in  phi- 
losophy. Reality  can  be  conceived  only  as  an  absolutely  self- 
consistent  system.  In  this  sense  our  philosopher  is,  after  all, 


480  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

a  rigorous  rationalist:  genuine  knowledge  is  a  system  of  self- 
consistent  concepts.  Hence,  if  our  experience  furnishes  us  with 
a  world-view  that  is  contradictory,  it  cannot  stand.  Here  be- 
gins the  work  of  metaphysics;  the  contradictions  must  be  re- 
moved and  harmonized;  we  must  modify  and  correct  our  ordi- 
nary and  scientific  notions  so  that  they  will  hang  together,  form 
a  consistent  picture  of  reality,  render  intelligible  our  world  of 
experience. 

This  Herbart  proceeds  to  do  in  his  metaphysics.  He  accepts 
the  Kantian  teaching  that  experience  reveals  only  phenomena ; 
.  but,  he  insists,  an  appearance  must  always  be  the 
appearance  of  something:  it  implies  a  reality;  so 
viel  Schein  so  viel  Hindeutung  auf  Sein.  (Here,  again,  our 
Kantian  thinker  betrays  his  rationalism;  basing  himself  on  the 
notion  of  ground,  he  passes  from  ideas  to  things-in- themselves. ) 
Our  sensations  cannot  be  explained,  after  the  fashion  of  ideal- 
ism, as  mere  products  of  the  mind;  subjective  though  they  be, 
they  suggest  a  being  outside  of  them,  a  world  of  things-in- 
themselves.  The  question  is,  How  is  this  world,  the  true  reality, 
Constituted  ? 

Our  seeming,  appearing,  phenomenal  world  is  a  world  of  con- 
Vadictions,  a  world  of  many  qualities  and  changes.  We  say, 
^or  example,  a  thing  has  many  qualities,  and  a  thing  changes  its 
lualities.  How  can  one  thing  be  many  things?  How  can  one 
l:hing  be  white  and  hard  and  sweet  and  fragrant,  and  how  can 
t  be  now  one  thing,  now  another  ?  It  cannot  be,  for  that  would 
De  contradictory.  Every  thing  is  what  it  is,  identical  with 
Itself,  absolutely  one:  to  give  it  several  qualities  or  to  ascribe 
Change  to  it,  would  be  a  contradiction  in  terms.  Every  sensa- 
tion points  to  a  single  reality  or  being.  A  thing  is  simple, 
changeless,  constant  being :  absolute,  indivisible,  not  extended  in 
space  or  in  time.  It  cannot  be  conceived  as  a  continuum,  other- 
wise it  would  not  be  simple  and  absolute.  The  principle  oi 
identity,  in  this  sense,  is  for  Herbart  a  basal  law  upon  which 
he  rears  his  theory  of  reality. 

But  if  a  thing  is  what  it  is,  a  simple,  changeless  substance 
how  do  we  account  for  the  illusion  of  manif oldness  and  change  • 
Why  do  the  things  we  experience  appear  to  have  many  quali 
ties  and  to  change?  Metaphysics  can  explain  this  only  on  th( 


REALISM  OF  HERBART  481 

assumption  that  there  are  many  simple  unchangeable  principles, 
or  substances,  or  reals,  as  Herbart  calls  them.  Each  particular 
and  apparently  simple  thing  is  really  not  a  simple  thing  having 
many  qualities,  but  a  complexus  or  aggregate  of  many  simple 
things  or  reals,  in  more  or  less  constant  union.  We  must  assume 
many  reals,  because  the  so-called  thing  has  many  qualities ;  when 
such  and  such  reals  happen  to  form  such  and  such  combinations 
with  one  another,  enter  into  such  and  such  relations,  then  such 
and  such  phenomena  result.  Change  is  explained  as  the  coming 
and  going  of  reals ;  to  say  a  thing  changes  its  quality  means  sim- 
ply: a  change  occurs  in  the  relation  of  the  reals  or  monads 
composing  it;  the  reals  themselves  originally  composing  it  are 
unchangeable,  and  every  one  of  them  remains  unalterably  what 
it  is;  only  the  relation  has  changed,  reals  have  been  added  or 
taken  away.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  we  can  call  phenomena 
"  the  accidental  viewpoints  "  of  things.  One  and  the  same 
line  can  be  a  radius  or  a  tangent;  in  the  same  way  a  real  may 
enter  into  different  relations  with  other  reals,  without  changing 
its  essence.  What  we  say  of  their  mutual  relations  does  not 
affect  their  being:  it  is  merely  an  accidental  viewpoint  which 
we  take. 

The  world  of  reals  is  absolute;  there  is  no  change,  growth, 
appearance  in  it,  everything  is  what  it  is.  But  we  relate  the 
thing  with  another  thing,  with  another  real  or  reals;  the  sem- 
blance is  in  us,  the  contradictions  of  plurality  and  change  are 
phenomena  in  us;  all  qualities  are  secondary  qualities.  This 
view  would  ascribe  all  variety  and  change  to  us;  the  real 
world  would  be  an  absolutely  static  world  in  which  nothing 
would  happen;  all  occurrence  would  be  a  phenomenon  in 
consciousness. 

Nevertheless,  there  appears  to  be  change  in  the  real  itself. 
This  is  explained  as  follows.  Every  real  strives  to  preserve 
its  identity  against  disturbances  on  the  part  of  other  reals.  One 
and  the  same  real  will,  therefore,  behave  differently  in  maintain- 
ing itself  against  others.  There  is  no  real  change  in  the  real; 
it  asserts  its  quality,  or  preserves  its  essence,  against  all  dis- 
turbance, but  the  way  it  preserves  itself  depends  on  the  nature 
and  degree  of  the  disturbance  threatening  it.  Even  if  there 
were  no  opposition,  if  it  existed  alone,  it  would  preserve  its 


482  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

quality.  The  real  maintains  itself  at  the  same  level  always; 
it  is  constant,  unchanging  in  the  face  it  presents,  but  it  seems 
that  varying  degrees  of  effort  are  required  for  it  to  preserve 
its  calm  in  the  presence  of  different  qualities  and  different  de- 
grees of  opposition.  The  question  arises,  How  is  all  this  pos- 
sible in  view  of  the  statement  that  reals  do  not  influence  one 
another?  They  do  seem  to  influence  one  another;  the  presence 
of  other  reals  does  not  change  the  nature  or  status  of  any  real, 
but  it  does  arouse  different  degrees  of  activity  (self-preservation) 
in  it. — Space,  time,  motion,  and  matter  are  treated  according 
to  the  same  method:  they  are  not  reals,  but  objective  appear- 
ances of  reals. 

Herbart's  psychology  is  a  part  of  metaphysics:  it  is  rational 
psychology.  Empirical  psychology  cannot  be  made  the  basis  of 
philosophy;  psychology  presupposes  metaphysics; 
without  a  metaphysical  psychology  the  questions 
of  a  critique  of  reason  cannot  be  answered,  indeed  not  even  thor- 
oughly discussed.  Psychology  rests  on  experience,  metaphysics, 
and  mathematics.  The  soul  is  a  simple,  absolute,  timeless  and 
spaceless  real  (it  is  the  first  substance  science  compels  us  to 
presuppose)  ;  hence,  it  cannot  have  different  faculties  or  powers, 
of  which  psychologists  speak.  Herbart's  attack  on  the  faculty- 
psychology  results  from  his  metaphysical  presuppositions.  Since 
the  soul  is  a  simple  substance,  there  can  be  no  action  in  it  but 
self-preservation.  It  is  related  to  the  body,  which  is  an  aggre- 
gate of  reals,  the  seat  of  the  soul  being  in  the  brain.  All  souls 
are  essentially  alike ;  the  differences  in  souls  and  in  their  devel- 
opment are  due  to  external  conditions,  such  as  the  organization 
of  the  body.  The  soul  has  originally  no  powers  or  capacities, 
neither  ideas  nor  feelings  nor  impulses;  it  knows  nothing  of 
itself,  has  no  forms,  intuitions,  or  categories,  no  a  priori  laws 
of  willing  or  acting.  A  sensation  arises  in  the  soul  when  the 
soul  asserts  itself  against  another  real;  sensation  is  the  expres- 
sion of  its  function  of  self-preservation.  The  entire  content  of 
the  soul,  as  it  exists  in  the  developed  state,  is  the  result  of  the 
reproduction  and  association  of  sensations.  Psychology  is  the 
statics  and  mechanics  of  the  mind.  Herbart's  aim  is  to  create 
a  science  parallel  to  physical  mechanics.  The  old  physics  ex- 
plained everything  by  forces,  the  new  physics  reduces  every- 


REALISM  OF  HERBART  483 

thing  to  motion;  the  old  psychology  explained  everything  by 
powers  and  faculties,  the  new  psychology  must  explain  every- 
thing by  the  movements  of  ideas:  sensations  and  ideas  tend  to 
persist,  but  other  psychic  states  contend  with  them;  there  is 
action  and  reaction.  Herbart  seeks  to  formulate  mathematically 
the  relations  existing  between  them.  Mental  life,  then,  is  ex- 
plained as  the  complication,  fusion,  and  opposition  of  ideas; 
feelings  and  strivings,  or  impulses,  are  modifications  of  ideas. 
Consciousness  does  not  exhaust  psychic  life;  processes  occur 
beneath  the  threshold  of  consciousness,  in  the  region  of  the  un- 
conscious. There  is  no  free  will ;  everything  in  the  mind  follows 
fixed  laws,  and  psychical  processes  can  be  mathematically 
determined. 

The  permanent  ground  of  mental  life  is  the  soul-substance, 
and  not  the  so-called  self-identical  ego,  the  ego  as  knower,  the 
self-conscious  personality.  Indeed,  the  notion  of  such  a  self- 
conscious  subject  is  contradictory.  How  can  that  which  is  a 
subject  also  be  an  object,  how  can  the  ego  represent,  or  be  con- 
scious of,  itself?  It  is  contradictory  to  say  the  knower  is  the 
thing  known,  the  subject  is  the  object.  Besides,  we  can  never 
become  aware  of  the  ego,  because  it  always  shifts  its  base  when 
we  try  to  catch  it,  and  leaves  us  with  an  object  (the  me).  The 
eye  cannot  see  itself;  the  ego  can  see  only  its  picture;  an  ego 
that  is  seen  or  looked  at  is  no  longer  the  looking  or  perceiving 
ego:  this  eternally  eludes  our  grasp.  The  self-conscious  ego  is 
not  a  principle,  but  a  product ;  it  is  not  the  spontaneous  ground 
or  center  of  our  mental  life,  but  itself  the  result  of  the  me- 
chanics of  the  soul.  Self-consciousness  comes  later  than  the 
consciousness  of  objects,  it  presupposes  many  ego-ideas.  Fichte's 
pure  ego  is  an  abstraction;  the  only  kind  of  self-consciousness 
we  know  is  our  empirical  self-consciousness,  and  this  is  always 
a  consciousness  of  objects. 

Characteristic  of  Herbart 's  psychology  are  his  rejection  of 
the  faculty- theory,  his  theory  of  presentation  (Vorstellung)  as 
the  sole  and  basal  function  of  the  soul,  his  doctrine  of  the  uncon- 
scious, his  theory  of  apperception,  his  associationism,  his  theory 
of  interaction,  his  determinism,  and  his  view  that  the  ego  is 
not  a  principle,  but  a  product.  Space,  time,  and  the  categories 
are  not  a  priori  forms  of  the  mind,  but  products  of  the  me- 


484  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

chanics  of  the  soul,  the  result  of  the  interaction  of  psychic 
elements. 

Metaphysics  has  to  do  with  reality.  There  is  a  science  called 
aesthetics,  which  deals  not  with  realities,  but  with  values, — which 
pronounces  judgments  of  taste.  These  two  sciences 
Sciem  are  aDsoiutely  separate,  and  Herbart  opposes  all 

attempts  that  have  been  made  to  unite  them. 
There  are,  besides  theoretical  judgments,  judgments  which  ex- 
press approval  and  disapproval:  we  call  things  beautiful  and 
ugly,  praiseworthy  and  blamable.  The  problem  of  aesthetics 
is  to  examine  the  objects  of  these  judgments  and  to  discover 
what  pleases  or  displeases  us  in  them.  Herbart  finds  that  it  is 
not  their  content,  but  their  form,  that  our  feelings  of  approval 
and  disapproval  are  aroused  by  certain  simple  relations  existing 
between  things. 

Practical  philosophy  is  a  branch  of  aesthetics  and  concerns 
itself  with  the  morally  beautiful.  We  approve  and  disapprove 
certain  relations  of  will.  Experience  shows  that  there  are  five 
types  of  relations  which  give  rise  to  ethical  judgments  and 
which  are  called  patterns  or  Ideas.  We  approve  the  relation 
in  which  the  individual's  will  agrees  with  his  conviction  (Idea 
of  inner  freedom)  ;  a  harmonious  relation  between  the  different 
strivings  of  the  will  in  the  same  subject  (Idea  of  perfection)  ; 
a  relation  in  which  a  will  makes  the  satisfaction  of  another's 
will  its  object  (Idea  of  benevolence).  We  disapprove  a  rela- 
tion in  which  several  wills  impede  one  another,  that  is,  conflict 
and  discord.  We  approve  a  relation  in  which  each  will  permits 
a  will  to  impede  its  own  (Idea  of  justice).  We  disapprove  a 
relation  in  which  the  intended  good  or  evil  act  is  not  recom- 
pensed (Idea  of  retribution).  Corresponding  to  these  five  Ideas, 
in  inverse  order,  are  five  systems  of  society:  the  legal  system, 
the  wage  system,  the  system  of  administration,  the  system  of 
culture;  all  of  which  are  united  in  the  realization  of  the  Idea 
of  inner  freedom  as  applied  to  society.  The  supreme  ideal  of 
society  is  the  union  of  will  and  reason,  one  in  which  there  is  no 
discord  between  the  members. 

Herbart  exercised  his  greatest  influence  through  his  theory 
of  education.  Pedagogy  he  regarded  as  applied  psychology,  and 
its  ends  as  determined  by  ethics.  His  mechanical  conception 


SCHOPENHAUER  AND  HARTMANN  485 

of  mental  life  as  the  result  of  the  interplay  of  ideas  accounts 
for  the  emphasis  he  places  on  instruction,  the  importance  of 
interest,  and  the  value  of  apperception. 

F.  H.  Beneke  (1798-1854;  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic  als  Naturwissen- 
schaft,  1833,  System  der  praktischen  Philosophic,  1837)  was  influ- 
enced by  Herbart,  as  well  as  by  Fries  and  English  empiricism.  He 
agrees  with  Herbart  that  psychology  must  be  based  on  experience,  but 
rejects  the  view  that  makes  it  dependent  on  mathematics  and  meta- 
physics. It  is  the  science  of  inner  experience,  the  most  certain  of  all 
our  knowledge,  and  must  serve  as  the  foundation  of  metaphysics, 
epistemology,  ethics,  and  pedagogy. 

63.   PHILOSOPHY  OF  WILL  :  SCHOPENHAUER  AND  HARTMANN 

Arthur  Schopenhauer  was  born,  1788,  in  Danzig,  his  father  being 
a  wealthy  banker  and  his  mother  a  popular  novelist  of  her  day.  The 
son  entered  business,  but  found  commercial  life  dis- 
tasteful and  exchanged  the  counting-house  for  the  uni-  Schopenhauer 
versity.  At  Gottingen  (1809-1811)  and  Berlin  (1811- 
1813),  he  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  philosophy,  natural  science, 
and  Sanscrit  literature.  His  favorite  philosophical  writers  were  Plato 
and  Kant;  Fichte  he  heard  at  Berlin  and  was  undoubtedly  influenced 
by  him,  notwithstanding  his  contemptuous  characterization  of  him, 
Schelling,  and  Hegel  as  the  "  windbags  of  philosophy."  Schopenhauer 
established  himself  as  a  private  decent  at  the  University  of  Berlin 
and  lectured  there  intermittently  from  1820  to  1831  during  the  period 
of  HegePs  greatest  popularity,  but  met  with  little  success  as  a  teacher. 
In  1831  he  retired  from  the  University,  full  of  bitterness  and  hatred 
of  all  "  philosophy-professors,"  and  settled  at  Frankfort  on  the  Main, 
devoting  himself  to  thinking  and  wricing.  His  fame  was  slow  in 
coming,  but  it  sweetened  the  last  few  years  of  his  life.  He  died  in  1860. 

tiber  die  vierfache  Wurzel  des  Satzes  vom  zureichenden  Grunde, 
1813;  Die  Welt  als  Wille  und  Vorstellung,  1819;  Uber  den  Willen 
in  der  Natur,  1836;  Die  beiden  Grundprobleme  der  Ethik,  1841; 
Parerga  und  Paralipomena,  1851.  Collected  works  ed.  by  Frauenstadt, 
6  vols.,  2d  ed.,  1877;  by  Grisebach,  1890,  ff.  (new  ed.  in  Reclam, 
6  vols.);  by  Steiner,  13  vols.,  1894;  by  Deussen,  1911,  ff.  Index  by 
Wagner. 

Translations :  World  as  Will  and  Idea,  by  Haldane  and  Kemp,  3  vols., 
1884,  ff.;  Fourfold  Root  and  Witt  in  Nature,  by  Hillebrand,  2d  ed., 
1891;  Basis  of  Morality,  by  Bullock;  Selected  Essays,  by  T.  B.  Saundere. 

Monographs  by  W.  Wallace,  Whittaker,  Zimmern,  Caldwell,  Volkclt, 
K.  Fischer,  Ribot,  Grisebach ;  Paulsen,  Schopenhauer,  Hamlet,  Mephis- 
topheles;  Simmel,  Schopenhauer  und  Nietzsche;  Tsanoff,  Schopen- 
hauer's Criticism  of  Kant;  Th.  Lorenz,  Entwicklungsgeschichte  der 
Metaphysik  Schopenhauers.  Cf.  Sully,  Pessimism. 

Schopenhauer  accepts  the  thought  of  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure 
Reason  that  the  world  of  experience  is  a  world  of  phenomena, 


486  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

conditioned  by  the  nature  of  human  intelligence.  The  mind  has 
its  forms  of  perceiving  (space  and  time)  and  its  categories  of 
knowing;  the  latter  Schopenhauer  reduces  to  the 
The  World  single  category  of  causality.  What  the  world  is 
andJtdea  apart  from  intelligence,  Kant  had  declared,  we  do 
not  know,  and  can  never  know,  in  the  sense 
in  which  we  know  phenomena;  it  is  the  great  unknown,  the 
noumenon  of  which  the  perceived  world  is  the  phenomenon. 
We  do  not  come  face  to  face  with  the  thing-in-itself  in  an  in- 
tellectual intuition  and  can,  therefore,  know  nothing  of  it  except 
that  it  exists;  the  forms  of  the  mind,  space,  time,  causality, 
and  the  rest  are  inapplicable  to  it. 

At  this  point  Schopenhauer's  teaching  diverges  from  that  of 
his  master.  It  is  true,  he  says,  if  I  were  merely  an  intellectual 
being,  an  outward-looking  subject,  I  should  perceive  nothing  but 
phenomena  arranged  in  space  and  time,  and  in  causal  relation. 
In  my  own  innermost  consciousness,  however,  I  come  face  to 
face  with  my  true,  real,  basal  self;  in  the  consciousness  of 
activity  I  become  aware  of  the  thing-in-itself.  The  thing-in- 
itself  is  will;  it  is  the  primary,  timeless,  spaceless,  uncaused 
activity  that  expresses  itself  in  me  as  impulse,  instinct,  striving, 
craving,  yearning.  I  also  become  aware  of  myself  as  a  phe- 
nomenon, as  a  part  of  nature;  I  image  myself  as  an  extended 
organic  body.  I  know  myself  in  two  ways :  as  will  and  as  body ; 
but  it  is  the  one  will  which,  in  self-consciousness,  appears  as 
the  consciousness  of  activity  and,  in  perception,  as  my  material 
body.  The  will  is  my  real  self,  the  body  the  expression  of 
the  will. 

This  thought  is  the  key  to  the  solution  of  the  whole  question 
of  metaphysics.     All  things  are  interpreted  by  Schopenhauer 
in  analogy  with  his  conception  of  the  human  being : 
Will  in  the  world  is  will  and  idea ;  idea  to  the  intellect,  but 

in  Man  '  in  reality  will.  We  find  this  voluntaristic  world- 
view  corroborated  by  the  facts.  When  I  look  inward. 
I  come  face  to  face  with  will ;  when  I  look  outward,  I  perceive 
this  will  of  mine  as  body.  My  will  objectifies  itself  as  body, 
expresses  itself  as  a  living  organism.  We  are,  therefore,  justi- 
fied in  inferring  by  analogy  that  other  bodies  are,  like  mine, 
the  outward  manifestations  of  will.  In  the  stone,  will  mani- 


SCHOPENHAUER  AND  HARTMANN  487 

fests  itself  as  blind  force ;  in  man,  it  becomes  conscious  of  itself. 
The  magnetic  needle  always  points  to  the  north;  bodies  always 
fall  in  a  vertical  line;  substances  form  crystals  when  acted  on 
by  other  substances;  and  all  such  occurrences  give  evidence  of 
the  operation  of  forces  in  nature  which  are  akin  to  the  will 
in  us.  In  the  vegetable  kingdom,  too,  we  discover  traces  of 
unconscious  striving  or  impulse.  The  tree  desires  light  and 
strives  upward;  it  also  wants  moisture  and  pushes  its  roots 
into  the  soil.  Will  or  impulse  guides  the  growth  of  the  animal 
and  directs  all  its  activities.  The  wild  beast  desiring  to  devour 
prey  develops  teeth  and  claws  and  muscles;  the  will  creates  for 
itself  an  organism  suitable  to  its  needs;  function  precedes  or- 
ganization: the  desire  to  butt  is  the  cause  of  the  appearance 
of  the  horns.  The  will  to  live  is  the  basal  principle  of  life. 

In  man  and  the  higher  animals  this  primitive  impulse  be- 
comes conscious;  it  creates  intelligence  as  its  organ  or  instru- 
ment; intelligence  is  the  lamp  that  illuminates  the  will's  way 
through  the  world.  The  will  makes  for  itself  a  brain ;  the  brain 
is  the  seat  of  intelligence;  intelligence  and  consciousness  are 
functions  of  the  brain:  in  this  respect  Schopenhauer  agrees 
with  the  materialists.  On  the  lower  stages  of  existence,  the  will 
is  blind  craving,  it  works  blindly,  without  consciousness ;  in  man 
it  becomes  conscious;  intelligence  is  grafted  on  the  will  and 
becomes  the  greatest  of  all  instruments  of  self-preservation.  But 
it  always  remains  in  the  service  of  the  will;  will  is  the  master, 
intellect  the  servant. 

Will  controls  perception,  memory,  imagination,  judgment,  and 
reasoning;  we  perceive,  remember,  imagine  what  we  will  to  per- 
ceive, remember,  and  imagine;  and  our  arguments  are  always 
pleas  of  the  will.  As  we  pass  downward  in  the  scale  of  exist- 
ence from  man  to  the  mineral,  we  observe  intelligence  falling 
into  the  background;  the  will,  however,  remains  as  the  one, 
constant,  persistent  element.  In  the  child  and  the  savage, 
impulse  predominates  over  intelligence;  in  the  animal  kingdom, 
instinct  gradually  becomes  unconscious;  in  the  plant,  it  is  un- 
conscious; in  the  mineral,  all  trace  of  intelligence  disappears. 

This  basal  will,  which  manifests  itself  in  mineral  and  in  man, 
is  not  a  person,  not  an  intelligent  God.  It  is  a  blind  uncon- 
scious force  that  wills  existence.  It  is  neither  spatial  nor  tern- 


488  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

poral,  but  expresses  itself  in  individuals  in  space  and  time; 
that  is,  it  acts  in  such  a  way  that  our  mind  perceives  it  in 
individual,  i.e.,  temporal  and  spatial,  form.  It  manifests  itself  in 
eternal,  immutable  types,  which  Plato  calls  Ideas.  The  dif- 
ferent organic  species,  for  example,  are  eternal  immutable  types : 
the  species  do  not  change;  the  individuals  belonging  to  the 
species  grow  and  die,  but  the  will-type  or  the  species  endures. 
These  types  form  an  ascending  scale,  a  graduated  series  (Aris- 
totle), rising  from  the  lowest  stages  of  matter  to  man.  Indi- 
viduals may  come  and  individuals  may  go,  but  will  goes  on 
forever.  Hence,  the  fundamental  part  of  us,  the  will,  is  im- 
mortal; the  particular,  individual  form  in  which  it  expresses 
itself  is  mortal.  Suicide,  therefore,  means  the  destruction  of 
a  particular  expression  of  the  will,  but  not  of  the  will  itself. 

The  will  to  be,  the  will  to  live,  is  the  cause  of  all  struggle, 
sorrow,  and  evil  in  the  world.     A  world  of  ceaseless  striving 

and  battle,  in  which  the  different  forms  of  the 
^kp^!  blind  will  to  exist  struggle  with  one  another,  a 

world  in  which  the  little  fishes  are  devoured  by 
the  larger  ones,  is  not  a  good  world,  but  an  evil  one,  indeed  the 
worst  of  all  possible  worlds  (pessimism).  The  life  of  man  is 
not  worth  living,  because  it  is  full  of  misery:  it  follows  from 
the  very  nature  of  the  human  will  that  it  should  be  full  of 
pain  and  misery.  Life  consists  of  blind  craving,  which  is  pain- 
ful so  long  as  it  is  not  satisfied,  and  which  when  satisfied  is 
followed  by  new  painful  desires,  and  so  on  ad  nauseam.  We 
are  never  permanently  satisfied,  there  is  a  worm  in  every  flower. 
We  are  like  shipwrecked  mariners  who  struggle  and  struggle 
to  save  their  wearied  bodies  from  the  terrible  waves,  only  to  be 
engulfed  at  last.  "  The  life  of  most  men  is  but  a  continuous 
struggle  for  existence, — a  struggle  which  they  are  bound  to  lose 
at  last.  Every  breath  we  draw  is  a  protest  against  the  death 
which  is  constantly  threatening  us,  and  against  which  we  are 
battling  every  second.  But  Death  must  conquer  after  all,  for 
we  are  his  by  birth,  and  he  simply  plays  with  his  prey  a  little 
while  longer  before  devouring  it.  We,  however,  take  great  pains 
to  prolong  our  lives  as  far  as  we  can,  just  as  we  blow  soap- 
bubbles  as  long  and  as  large  as  we  can,  though  we  know  with 
absolute  certainty  that  they  must  break  at  last." 


SCHOPENHAUER  AND  HARTMANN  489 

After  one  life  has  run  down,  the  will  repeats  the  same  old 
process  in  new  individuals.  "  The  life  of  most  men  is  weary 
yearning  and  torture,  a  dreamy  tottering  through  the  four  ages 
toward  death,  accompanied  by  a  succession  of  trivial  thoughts. 
It  is  like  a  clock-work  that  is  wound  up  and  goes  without 
knowing  why;  and  every  time  a  man  is  conceived  and  born, 
the  clock  of  human  life  is  wound  up  anew,  in  order  to  grind 
out  the  same  old  hackneyed  tune  which  it  has  played  so  many 
countless  times  before,  measure  for  measure,  beat  for  beat,  with 
insignificant  variations. ' ' 

Another  reason  why  life  is  evil  is  because  it  is  selfish  and 
base;  and  it  follows  from  the  very  nature  of  the  will  that  it 
should  be  so.  L'homme  est  I' animal  mechant,  a  heartless  and 
cowardly  egoist,  whom  fear  makes  honest  and  vanity  sociable, 
and  the  only  way  to  succeed  in  the  world  is  to  be  as  grasping 
and  dishonest  as  the  rest.  The  progress  of  knowledge  and  civili- 
zation does  not  mend  matters;  it  simply  brings  witH  it  new 
needs  and,  with  them,  new  sufferings  and  new  forms  of  selfish- 
ness and  immorality.  The  so-called  virtues,  love  of  labor,  per- 
severance, temperance,  frugality,  are  merely  a  refined  egoism. 
"  In  much  wisdom  is  much  grief;  and  he  that  increaseth  knowl- 
edge increaseth  sorrow."  "  History  is  an  interminable  series  of 
murders,  robberies,  intrigues,  and  lies ;  if  you  know  one  page  of 
it,  you  know  them  all." 

Schopenhauer  teaches  that  sympathy,  or  pity,  is  the  basis  and 
standard  of  morality,  and  that  the  race  is  wicked  because  it  is 
selfish.  To  be  good,  an  act  must  be  prompted  by  pure  sym- 
pathy; if  the  motive  is  my  own  welfare,  the  act  has  no  moral 
worth  at  all ;  if  the  motive  is  the  harm  of  others,  it  is  wicked. 
The  empirical  character  of  man  is  wholly  determined,  but  the 
fact  of  remorse  suggests  that  the  will  is  free ;  my  will  must  there- 
fore be  ultimately  responsible  for  my  character:  the  intelligible 
ego  has  fashioned  the  empirical  ego. 

Since  the  selfish  will  is  the  root  of  all  evil  and  the  source 
of  all  sorrow,  man  must  negate  the  will,  suppress  his  selfish  de- 
sires, in  order  to  enjoy  happiness  or  at  least  to  be  at  peace. 
This  is  possible  in  several  ways.  The  artistic  or  philosophical 
genius  may  be  delivered  from  the  selfish  will,  forget  himself, 
lose  himself  in  artistic  contemplation  or  philosophical  thought, 


490     .  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

a  method  that  affords  only  temporary  relief  though  it  offers  a 
foretaste  of  deliverance.  The  individual  can  also  free  himself 
from  his  selfish  will  by  contemplating  the  wickedness  of  the 
world,  the  futility  of  all  desire,  and  the  illusoriness  of  indi- 
vidual existence.  If  he  will  think  of  these  things  and  remember 
that  all  individuals  are  one  in  essence,  that  they  are  all  mani- 
festations of  the  same  primal  will,  he  will  feel  sympathy  or  pity 
with  all  creation;  he  will  see  himself  in  others  and  feel  the 
sorrows  of  others  as  his  own.  This  is  the  moral  way,  but  it 
likewise  furnishes  only  temporary  relief.  The  best  way  is  total 
negation  of  the  will  in  an  ascetic  life,  such  as  is  practised  by 
Christian  ascetics  and  Buddhist  saints.  Resignation  and  will- 
lessness  ensue,  the  will  is  dead.  The  saint  finds  deliverance  from 
his  own  will,  from  the  impulses  which  bind  the  natural  man  to 
the  world;  the  will  dies  as  soon  as  it  becomes  aware  of  what 
it  is,  through  the  knowledge  of  life,  the  road  to  which  is 
suffering. 

Influenced  by  Schelling,  Hegel,  and  Schopenhauer,  E.  von 
Hartmann  (1842-1906)  seeks  to  reconcile  Hegel's  intellectualism 
with  the  voluntarism  of  Schopenhauer,  basing  his 
Philosophy  speculation  on  the  inductive-scientific  method  and 
Unconscious  offerin^  a  philosophy  of  nature  resembling  Schel- 
ling's.  Mechanism  is  inadequate  as  an  explanation 
and  must  be  supplemented  by  an  idealistic  conception.  We  can- 
not account  for  the  facts  without  assuming  the  operation  of 
a  will  in  nature,  and  this  will  must  be  conceived  as  determined 
by  an  idea  of  purpose,  which,  however,  is  unconscious.  Animal 
instinct,  for  example,  is  intelligent  action  towards  an  end  with- 
out consciousness  of  that  end.  It  is  not  determined  by  me- 
chanical or  psychical  conditions,  but  adapts  itself  to  the  environ- 
ment, transforming  its  organs  to  meet  its  needs.  The  directing 
principle  in  things,  matter  included,  is  an  unconscious,  imper- 
sonal, but  intelligent,  will, — that  is,  idea  plus  will, — which  be- 
comes fully  conscious  only  in  the  brain  of  man.  Matter  consists 
of  centers  of  force,  or  unconscious  will-impulses,  which  represent 
the  activities  of  an  absolute  universal  unconscious  spirit.  This 
absolute  spirit  was  originally  in  a  state  of  inactivity,  mere 
potential  will  or  reason,  but  it  was  impelled  to  action  by  the 


NEOKANTIANISM  491 

groundless  will.  It  is  due  to  the  logical  reason  in  it  that  the 
unconscious  world-will  is  governed  by  rational  purposes,  and 
that  it  expresses  itself  in  a  rational  process  of  evolution.  But 
all  willing  is  essentially  evil  and  the  cause  of  unhappiness.  The 
final  purpose  of  this  process  is  the  deliverance  of  the  absolute 
will  from  itself  and  the  return  to  the  original  state  of  rest,  the 
nirvana.  This  end  will  be  attained  when  the  human  race  de- 
cides upon  non-existence.  In  the  meanwhile,  it  is  our  duty  to 
affirm  the  will  to  live  to  the  utmost,  not  to  practise  asceticism 
and  world-flight. 

Philosophic  des  Unbewussten,  1869  (transl.  by  Coupland) ;  Phdnome- 
nologie  des  sittlichen  Bewusstseins,  1879;  Grundproblem  der  Erkennt- 
nistheorie,  1890;  Religionsphilosophie,  1881,  f.;  Kategorienlehre,  1896; 
System  der  Philosophie  im  Grundriss,  1907,  ff. 

Sully,  Pessimism,  chap,  v;  A.  Drews,  Hartmanns  philosophisches 
System;  0.  Braun,  E.  v.  Hartmann;  Vaihinger,  Hartmann,  Dilhring 
und  Lange. 

64.   NEOKANTIANISM 

Kant  had  sought  to  establish  the  validity  of  mathematics  and 
natural  science  against  the  skepticism  of  Hume,  but  had  denied 
the  possibility  of  metaphysics  as  an  a  priori  sci- 
mce    of   things-in-themselves.     Rational    theology,   Reaction 
cosmology,  and  psychology  have  no  scientific  value  jjp8- 
for  him :  we  cannot  prove  the  existence  of  God,  the  Philosophy 
immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the  freedom  of  the 
rtill  to  theoretical  reason;  theoretical  knowledge  is  out  of  the 
luestion  here,  because  these  things  are  not  and  cannot  be  objects 
)f  experience.    We  can  form  metaphysical  hypotheses,  it  is  true, 
laving  more  or  less  probability,  but  universal  and  necessary 
mowledge  cannot  be  reached  in  them.    We  may,  however,  rise 
;o  a  higher  kind  of  knowledge  of  freedom,  immortality,  and 
jod,  through  a  moral  intuition,  as  it  were:  practical  reason 
issures  us  of  the  validity  of  such  truths,  though  we  cannot  give 
ihem  a  sensuous  content  and  hence  know  them  in  the  scientific 
icnse. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  great  successors  of  Kant, — Pichto, 
Jchelling,  Hegel, — did  not  share  his  misgivings  with  respect  to 
netaphysics.  Hegel  offered  a  logical  explanation  of  the  universe 
n  all  its  various  phases,  and  his  philosophy  remained  the  reign- 


492  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

ing  one  in  Germany  until  1840.  The  critical  opposition  to  ra- 
tionalistic metaphysics,  however,  persisted  outside  of  the  post- 
Kantian  school ;  we  find  it  expressed  in  the  writings  of  Fries, 
Beneke,  Herbart,  Schopenhauer,  and  many  others.  Objections 
were  also  made  to  the  claim  that  philosophy  possesses  a  special 
method  of  knowledge  in  the  artistic  intuition  of  Schelling  or 
in  the  dialectical  process  of  Hegel;  and  the  treatment  of  scien- 
tific research  as  a  mere  preparation  for  philosophy,  or  even  as 
a  false  method,  was  repudiated.  Speculative  philosophy  was 
accused  of  ignoring  the  facts  or  of  attempting  to  spin  them 
out  of  its  own  inner  consciousness,  and  fell  into  disrepute.  The 
progress  of  natural  science  invited  a  closer  study  of  experience 
and  led  to  positivism  and  to  a  growing  contempt  of  metaphysics, 
which  came  to  be  identified  with  the  speculations  of  the  post- 
Kantians.  In  1842  Eobert  Mayer  discovered  the  principle  of 
the  conservation  of  energy;  in  1859  Darwin  published  his 
epoch-making  work  on  the  Origin  of  Species  by  Means  of 
Natural  Selection.  The  eclipse  of  philosophy  and  the  triumph 
of  natural  science  encouraged  the  growth  of  materialism.  In 
the  fifties  began  the  Materialismusstreit  in  Germany,  in  which 
Karl  Yogt  (1817-1895),  H.  Czolbe  (1819-1873),  J.  Moleschott 
(1822-1893),  and  L.  Biichner  (1824-1899;  Force  and  Matter, 
1855)  led  the  forces  against  the  idealistic  systems.  The  move- 
ment was  as  much  a  protest  against  the  theological  reactionaries 
as  against  the  extravagances  of  speculative  philosophy,  and  com- 
bined with  its  materialistic  metaphysics  a  humanitarian  and 
idealistic  ethics.  Indeed,  the  theories  offered  were,  as  a  rule, 
not  consistent  materialistic  theories  at  all,  but  conglomerations 
of  many  views:  thought  being  conceived  sometimes  as  motion, 
sometimes  as  the  effect  of  motion,  sometimes  as  the  necessary 
concomitant  of  motion,  sometimes  as  one  of  the  aspects  of  an 
underlying  unknown  principle  of  which  motion  is  a  parallel 
expression.  Biichner '&  book  had  a  great  vogue,  from  the  fifties 
on,  and  passed  through  at  least  twenty  editions.  Its  place  has 
now  been  taken  by  Ernst  Haeckel's  Riddle  of  the  Universe 
(1899),  a  work  that  shows  the  same  inconsistencies  as  its  prede- 
cessor.* 

*  See  Thilly,  The  World-View  of  a  Scientist:  Ernst  Haeckel's  Philosophy, 
Popular  Science  Monthly,  September,  1902. 


NEOKANTIANISM  493 

The  chemist  Wilhelm  Ostwald  (1853—;  Die  Uberwindung  des  wissen- 
schaftlichen  Materialismus,  1895,  Natur philosophic,  1902)  rejects  ma- 
terialism and  mechanism  in  favor  of  a  dynamic  or  "  energetic  "  theory. 
The  various  properties  of  matter  are  special  forms  of  energy  (kinetic, 
thermal,  chemical,  magnetic,  electric,  etc.),  which  cannot  be  reduced 
to  one  another.  Psychic  energy  is  another  form  of  energy;  it  is  un- 
conscious or  conscious  nervous  energy.  Interaction  is  explained  as  the 
transition  from  unconscious  to  conscious  energy  or  the  reverse. 

Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  natural  that  philosophers 
should  again  take  up  the  problem  of  knowledge,  to  which  Kant 
had  given  such  careful  and  sober  attention,  and 
subject  the  various  intellectual  tendencies  of  the 
age  to  critical  examination.  The  critical  philosophy 
became  the  rallying-point  for  all  those  who  opposed  both  the 
methods  of  the  Hegelians  and  the  progress  of  materialism,  as 
well  as  for  those  who  distrusted  metaphysics  altogether.  In 
1865  O.  Liebmann  raised  the  cry :  Back  to  Kant  (Kant  und  die 
Epigonen),  in  which  he  was  joined  by  Weisse,  Zeller,  Fortlage, 
Haym,  and  K.  Fischer;  and  F.  A.  Lange  published  his  cele- 
brated work  on  History  of  Materialism.  During  recent  years, 
this  Neokantian  movement  has  grown  to  large  proportions,  and 
nearly  every  German  thinker  of  note  may  be  said  to  belong  to 
it,  in  some  way  or  other.  All  the  members  of  this  group 
emphasize  the  need  of  epistemological  investigations,  some  even 
regarding  the  philological  study  of  the  Kantian  writings,  espe- 
cially of  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  as  of  primary  importance 
(Vaihinger,  B.  Erdmann,  Reicke,  Kehrbach,  Adickes,  E.  Ar- 
nold). Certain  Neokantians  would  limit  philosophy  to  epistemol- 
ogy,  accepting  the  positivistic  conclusion  that  we  can  know  phe- 
nomena only  and  rejecting  all  metaphysics,  whether  materialis- 
tic or  idealistic,  as  beyond  our  ken.  According  to  Lange  (1828- 
1875),  who  has  exerted  a  great  influence,  materialism  is  justified 
as  a  method,  but  not  as  a  world-view,  since  it  fails  to  explain 
the  basal  nature  of  physical  objects  and  of  our  own  inner  self. 
To  his  mind,  metaphysical  and  religious  speculations  are  the 
products  of  a  kind  of  "  constructive  instinct  "  in  man  and  have 
no  theoretical  value:  the  existence  of  an  ideal  world  cannot  be 
proved,  but  such  a  conception  has  practical  worth  in  human 
life.  H.  Cohen  (born  1842),  the  head  of  the  Marburg  School, 
develops  the  critical  philosophy  and  offers  a  system  of  his  own 


494  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

(Systemder  Philosophic,  1902,  ff.),  on  the  basis  of  Kant's 
method.  Among  his  pupils  are  P.  Natorp  (Sozialpadagogik, 
1899)  and  R.  Stammler  (Lehre  von  dem  richtigen  Rechte, 
1902). 

Another  group  of  thinkers,  influenced  by  Berkeley  and  Hume, 
as  well  as  by  Kant,  limit  philosophy  to  the  analysis  of  states 
of  consciousness.  Their  doctrine  has  been  called 
Immanent  ^  immanent  philosophy ;  the  school  is  represented 
by  Schuppe,  Rehmke,  and  Schubert-Soldern.  Some 
of  the  members  end  in  solipsism,  but  the  larger  number  of  them 
advocate  an  objective  idealism,  setting  up  a  universal  conscious- 
ness as  a  necessary  presupposition  of  knowledge. 

The  theological  Neokantians  place  the  emphasis  on  Kant's 
ethical  philosophy:  a  rational  moral  faith,  ethical-religious  ex- 
perience, forms  the  basis  of  religion.  To  this  group  belong  A, 
Ritschl  and  his  followers :  W.  Hermann,  J.  Kaftan,  H.  Schultz; 
K.  Kostlin,  A.  Dorner,  and  R.  Lipsius. 


65.   NEW  IDEALISM 

With  the  decline  of  Hegelianism  came  the  reign  of  natural 
science  and  materialism,  and  the  temporary  eclipse  of  all  phi- 
losophy.   No  one  could  hope  to  reestablish  it  in  a 

Me]a£hysics,     Position  of  respect  who  did  not  understand  and 

and  Natural  .   ,       ,,  ,.     ,  , 

Science  appreciate   the    methods    and    results   of   natural 

science  as  well  as  those  of  philosophy.  A  number 
of  thinkers  arose  in  Germany,  some  from  the  ranks  of  natural 
science  itself,  through  whose  efforts  philosophy  has  regained  a 
place  of  honor  in  the  hierarchy  of  the  sciences.  Most  promi- 
nent in  this  group  are  Lotze,  Fechner,  Hartmann,  Wundt,  and 
Paulsen.  All  these  men  have  profited  by  a  study  of  the  different 
movements  of  thought:  positivism,  materialism,  criticism,  and 
post-Kantian  idealism.  They  regard  as  futile  any  attempt  1:0 
construct  a  metaphysics  by  means  of  the  rationalistic  methods 
of  the  old  schools  and  independently  of  natural  science.  Though 
rejecting  subjective  idealism  and  the  a  priori  and  dialectical 
methods,  they  may  all  be  called  descendants  of  German  idealisn. 
With  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  they  hold  that  there  csn 
be  no  knowledge  in  science  and  philosophy  without  experience; 


NEW  IDEALISM 

with  positivism,  that  there  can  be  no  system  of  metaph\ 
possessing  absolute  certainty. 

A  thinker  well  fitted  by  training  and  temperament  to  under- 
take the  task  of  reestablishing  philosophy  was  Hermann  Lotze, 
ivho  offered  a  system,  combining  the  monadology 
>f  Leibniz  with  the  pantheism  of  Spinoza,  which    Hermann 
sought  to  reconcile  monism  and  pluralism,  mech- 
anism and  teleology,  realism  and  idealism,  pantheism  and  theism, 
and  which  he  called  teleological  idealism.    His  aim  was  to  do 
justice  to  the  claims  of  an  ethical-religious  idealism   (Fichte) 
as  well   as   to  the   sober  scientific   interpretation    of   natural 
phenomena. 

Lotze  (1817-1881)  studied  medicine  and  philosophy  at  Leipzig,  be- 
3ame  a  teacher  of  physiology  and  philosophy  in  that  university  (1839), 
ind  professor  of  philosophy  at  Gottingen  (1844),  where  he  remained 
antil  1881,  when  he  was  called  to  Berlin. 

Works:  Metaphysik,  1841;  Allgemeine  Pathologie  und  Therapeutik 
ils  mechanische  Naturwissenschaften,  1842;  Logik,  1843;  Physiologic, 
L851;  Medizinische  Psychologic,  1852;  Microcosmus,  3  vols.,  1856-1864; 
System  der  Philosophic :  Logik,  1874,  Metaphysik,  1879. 

Microcosmus,  transl.  by  Hamilton  and  Jones,  1884;  Logic,  by  B. 
Bosanquet,  2  vols.,  1884;  Metaphysics,  by  B.  Bosanquet,  2  vols.,  1884; 
Lotze's  Outlines  (lectures),  by  Ladd.  On  Lotze,  see  H.  Jones,  The 
Philosophy  of  Lotze;  Hartmann,  Lotzes  Philosophic;  Falckenberg, 
Lotze;  E.  Pfleiderer,  Lotzes  philosophische  Weltanschauung;  V.  Robins, 
Some  Problems  of  Lotze's  Theory  of  Knowledge;  V.  Moore,  Ethical 
Aspect  of  Lotze's  Metaphysics;  Lichtenstein,  Lotze  und  Wundt;  M. 
Wentscher,  Lotze. 

Man  is  not  a  mere  mirror  of  facts;  he  cannot  find  satisfaction 
for  his  ethical  and  religious  interests  in  a  mechanized  universe. 
Ajid  yet  the  physical  world,  life  included,  is  to  be 
explained  by  physical  and  chemical  laws,  on  the 
basis  of  a  mechanical  atomism.  Organic  matter 
differs  from  inorganic  matter,  not  in  the  possession  of  vital 
force,  but  only  in  the  different  arrangement  of  its  parts;  and 
this  arrangement  is  a  system  of  physical  reactions  that  deter- 
mines the  direction,  form,  and  evolution  of  every  one  of  the 
parts.  The  living  body  is  an  automaton, — more  of  a  machine 
than  any  invention  of  man.  This  view  seems  to  leave  no  place 
for  man  and  his  purposes  and  ideals;  and  yet  an  examination 
[>f  the  presuppositions  on  which  the  mechanical  theory  rests 


496  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

will  show  that  this  is  not  the  case.  The  external  world,  as  pre- 
sented to  perception,  is  not  a  copy  of  reality,  as  naive  realism 
assumes,  but  a  reaction  of  our  own  consciousness  to  external 
stimuli:  a  creation  of  the  soul  in  the  soul  itself.  The  spatial- 
temporal  sense-world  is  a  phenomenal  world,  a  product  of  con- 
sciousness. Sensation,  perception,  and  the  logical  laws  by  whicl 
we  interpret  the  given  sensations,  are  functions  of  the  subject 
What,  then,  is  the  essence  of  the  real  things  outside,  of  the  things 
in- themselves  ?  This  question  we  can  answer  only  by  analogical 
reasoning,  and  such  reasoning  will  bring  us  to  a  metaphysical 
idealism.  Things-in-themselves  must  have  the  capacity  to  ac1 
and  to  be  acted  on,  or  to  suffer  change,  and  yet  remain  the 
same  in  all  change.  A  being  of  such  nature  we  know  immediately 
only  in  ourselves:  it  is  the  self-determining  principle  of  unity 
called  the  soul,  This  unity  of  consciousness,  the  capacity  of  the 
mind  to  combine  manifold  phenomena  in  the  unity  of  conscious 
ness,  is  what  compels  us  to  assume  the  existence  of  an  indivisible 
supersensible  soul,  as  a  being  distinct  from  the  body.  Only  ir 
the  soul  do  we  find  unity  in  variety,  persistence  in  change,  anc 
development:  what  has  been  experienced  is  not  lost,  but  carried 
over  into  the  present  as  part  and  parcel  of  our  mental  life.  Th( 
real  universe  must,  therefore,  be  interpreted  in  terms  of  mind 
in  terms  of  the  only  reality  directly  known  to  us.  The  atoms 
of  which  science  speaks  are  immaterial  essences,  like  Leibniz 't 
monads,  or  centers  of  force,  analogous  to  what  we  experience  ir 
our  own  inner  life.  Space  is  not  a  metaphysical  reality,  but  i 
mere  sensible  appearance  of  the  existence  of  these  dynamic  units 
a  constant  product  of  perception.  Even  the  lowest  forms  oJ 
matter  are  not  dead,  inert  masses,  but  finely  organized  systems, 
full  of  life  and  action.  There  are  various  degrees  of  reality 
the  human  mind  represents  the  highest,  self-conscious,  stage  IE 
the  scale  of  mental  life,  but  mental  life  is  equally  present  IE 
less  clearly  conscious  modes  of  existence,  even  in  gross  forris 
of  matter. 

Lotze  also  bases  the  acceptance  of  metaphysical  idealism  OE 
practical  or  ethical  grounds.  It  is  an  intolerable  thought  tc 
suppose  that  a  cold  material  atomic  mechanism  should  exist  f  31 
the  sole  purpose  of  picturing,  in  the  feeling  soul,  a  beautiful 
illusion  of  colors  and  sounds.  Such  a  universe  would  have  neith  e: 


NEW  IDEALISM  497 

leaning  nor  ethical  worth.  We  can  interpret  reality  only  as 
:>mething  which  we  can  absolutely  approve,  as  something  abso- 
itely  good;  hence  the  phenomenal  world  cannot  be  a  meaning- 
iss  illusion,  but  must  be  conceived  as  the  manifestation  of  an 
thically  ordered  spiritual  world.  Lotze  's  logic  and  metaphysics 
re  here  rooted  in  ethics.  We  cannot  think  of  anything  exist- 
ig  that  ought  not  to  exist;  our  forms  of  thinking  (the  logical 
iws)  are  rooted  in  the  demand  for  the  good,  and  reality  it- 
jlf  is  rooted  in  what  is  absolutely  good,  in  the  highest  good. 

The  relation  of  soul  and  body  is  one  of  interaction.  How 
;  is  possible  for  the  body  to  cause  changes  in  the  soul,  or  vice 
ersa,  cannot  be  explained,  but  the  difficulty  is  no  greater  here 
lan  anywhere  else.  All  we  can  mean  by  any  causal  action,  is 
lat  on  the  occasion  of  a  change  in  one  object,  a  change  takes 
lace  in  another:  how,  we  cannot  tell.  The  principle  of  the 
anservation  of  energy  is  no  argument  against  the  interaction 
f  mind  and  body:  this  is  made  possible  by  the  fact  that  the 
ody  is  not  different  from  the  soul  in  essence.  The  body  is,  for 
otze  as  for  Leibniz,  a  system  of  monads  or  spiritual  forces, 
ie  soul  being  situated  in  the  brain  and  coming  into  relation 
dth  the  body  only  in  the  brain.  The  soul  dominates  the  body, 
3  long  as  the  body  is  alive ;  what  becomes  of  it  after  the  disso- 
ition  of  the  body  is  a  riddle,  but  Lotze  holds,  as  an  act  of  faith, 
lat  every  being  will  receive  his  just  due  at  some  time. 

We  see  how  the  mechanistic  theory  is  transformed  in  Lotze 's 
lought  into  a  system  of  spiritual  realities  in  reciprocal  relation 

rith  one  another.    Such  a  pluralistic  world  cannot  . 

.      .    J  .Pantheism 

e  thought  without  a  unifying,  universal  substance, 

f  which  all  phenomena  are  the  modes  or  expressions.  Even 
le  mechanical  world-view,  assuming,  as  it  does,  the  harmonious 
iterrelation  of  the  movement  of  the  smallest  atom  with  the 
lotions  of  all  the  other  atoms  in  the  world,  makes  necessary 
ic  conception  of  such  an  infinite  being ;  indeed,  the  mechanism 
f  nature  is  the  expression  of  the  absolute  will,  it  is  the  way  in 
hich  the  Absolute  gives  itself  external  finite  form.  We  cannot 
nderstand  a  single  case  of  interaction  or  even  causal  efficiency, 
ic  possibility  of  the  influence  of  one  thing  on  another,  unless 
e  regard  the  manifold  processes  of  nature  as  states  of  one  and 
ic  same  all-comprehending  substance.  Here  Lotze's  philosophy 


498  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

develops  into  an  idealistic  pantheism,  uniting  Leibnizian  and 
Spinozistic  elements.  The  human  soul  is  compelled  to  interpret 
the  universal  substance  in  terms  of  the  highest  reality  that  i1 
knows, — as  a  personality ;  and  we  must  think  this  divine  person- 
ality as  an  absolutely  good  being,  as  a  God  of  love. 

Gustav  Theodor  Fechner  (1801-1887),  professor  of  physics 
at  Leipzig,  and  one  of  the  founders  of  psycho-physics,  is  a  repre- 
sentative of  the  same  movement. 

Leben  nach  dem  Tode,  1836;  Das  hochste  Gut,  1846;  Nanna,  odei 
Seelenleben  der  Pflanzen,  1848;  Zend-Avesta,  1851;  Uber  die  Seelen- 
frage,  1861;  Elemente  der  Psychophysik,  1860;  Vorschule  der  Aesthetik 
1876.  On  Fechner,  see:  Lasswitz,  Fechner ;  Wundt,  Fechner;  Pastor 
Fechner. 

Fechner  reasons  by  analogy  from  the  existence  of  mental  proc 
esses  in  ourselves  and  their  manifestation  in  our  bodies,  to  th( 
existence  of  psychic  life,  in  descending  degrees  oj 
clearness,  in  animals,  plants,  and  finally  also  ir 
inorganic  matter,  the  atoms  of  which  are  centers  of  force.  The 
entire  universe  is  alive  (panpsychism) .  There  are  also  highei 
forms  of  psychic  life  than  man's;  the  earth  and  the  other  planets 
have  souls,  and  these,  together  with  all  psychic  existences 
are  comprehended  in  a  highest  soul,  a  world-soul,  the  soul  oJ 
God.  The  relation  of  God  to  the  universe  is  analogous  to  thai 
of  the  human  soul  to  the  human  body;  nature  is  the  body  oJ 
God,  the  objective  expression  of  the  world-soul,  which  is  above 
nature,  as  the  human  soul  is  above  the  human  body. 

Friedrich  Paulsen  (1846-1908),  in  his  Introduction  to  Phi- 
losophy, a  book  widely  read  in  both  Germany  and  America,  offers 
an  idealistic  world-view  similar  to  that  of  Lotze  and  Fechnor 
(Cf.  Thilly,  Paulsen' 's  Ethical  Work,  I.  J.  Ethics,  XIX,  2.) 

Wilhelm  Wundt  (born  1832),  whose  writings  show  the  influ- 
ence of  the  teachings  of  Spinoza,   German  idealism,   Herbal, 
Fechner,  Lotze,  and  the  modern  theory  of  evolu- 
tion, first  held  a  professorship  of  physiology  a1 
Heidelberg  (1864-1873).     In  1873  he  became  professor  of  phi 
losophy  at  Zurich,  and  was  called  to  Leipzig  in  1875.    He  is  the 
father  of  modern  experimental  psychology;  many  of  the  teach- 


NEW  IDEALISM  499 

ers  of  this  new  science  in  the  different  parts  of  the  world  have 
been  his  pupils. 

Lehrbuch  der  Physiologic,  1864;  Lectures  on  Human  and  Animal 
Psychology,  1863  (transl.  by  Creighton  and  Titchener),  5th  ed.,  1911; 
Physiological  Psychology,  1874,  6th  ed.,  1908-1911;  Introduction  to 
Psychology,  transl.  by  Pinter,  1912;  Logik,  3  vols.,  1880-1883,  3d  ed., 
1906-1908;  Ethics,  1886  (transl.  by  Titchener,  Washburn,  and  Gulliver), 
1th  ed.,  1912;  System  der  Philosophic,  3d  ed.,  1907;  Einleitung  in  die 
Philosophic,  5th  ed.,  1909;  Volker psychologic,  5  vols.,  1900,  ff. 

Konig,  Wundt  als  Psycholog  und  als  Philosoph;  Eisler,  Wundta 
Philosophic  und  Psychologic;  Conrad,  Die  Ethik  Wundts;  Hb'ffding, 
Moderne  Philosophen. 

Wundt  defines  philosophy  as  the  universal  science  whose  func- 
tion it  is  to  combine  the  general  truths  obtained  in  the  special 
sciences  into  a  self-consistent  system.  The  facts  of  conscious- 
ness form  the  basis  of  all  our  knowledge;  so-called  external 
experience,  the  perception  of  an  external  world,  is  a  phase  of 
inner  experience ;  all  our  experiences  are  mental.  But  this  can- 
not be  interpreted,  in  the  sense  of  subjective  idealism,  as  mean- 
ing that  the  world  is  a  mere  reflection  of  consciousness;  we  are 
compelled  to  infer  the  existence  of  an  external  world  (critical 
realism).  Space  and  time,  causality  and  substance,  notions 
which  originate  in  the  mind,  would  never  arise  in  us  without 
the  cooperation  of  the  objective  world.  A  knowledge  of  nature 
would  be  impossible  without  both  external  causes  and  conceptual 
forms.  If  we  make  our  external  experiences  the  basis  of  our 
world-view,  we  are  driven  to  an  atomistic  materialism ;  if  we 
limit  ourselves  to  the  facts  of  our  mental  life,  we  shall  end  in 
idealism.  We  cannot,  however,  interpret  the  external  world  as 
devoid  of  inner  life:  the  cosmic  mechanism  is  the  outer  husk 
behind  which  lies  concealed  a  spiritual  creation,  a  striving  and 
feeling  reality  resembling  that  which  we  experience  in  ourselves. 
The  psychic  element  is  given  the  priority,  in  accordance  with 
the  results  of  the  theory  of  knowledge,  for  which  inner  experience 
must  remain  the  original  datum.  Psychology  shows  that  men- 
tal life  is  essentially  activity,  will :  this  manifests  itself  in  atten- 
tion, apperception,  association,  in  the  emotions  and  in  volitions, 
and  constitutes  the  central  factor  of  mind  (voluntarism). 

The  soul  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  substance, — which  would 
be  a  materialistic  conception, — but  as  pure  spiritual  activity, 


500  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

actus  purus.  Reality  must  be  conceived  as  a  totality  of  striving, 
willing  beings,  manifesting  themselves  in  material  form:  it  is 
composed  of  independent  beings  determined  by  inner  purposes 
(teleology).  We  are  led  by  ethical  reasons  to  comprehend  these 
individual  wills  in  a  universal  absolute  will,  the  nature  of  which 
we  cannot  further  define.  The  world  is  the  evolution  of  a  mind, 
a  progressive  development  of  interrelated  purposive  forms. 

Some  of  the  systems  of  philosophy  we  have  examined  are  based 
on  judgments  of  value;  they  interpret  reality  in  terms  of  a 
highest  good:  the  world  must  be,  at  bottom,  what 
Philosophy  fae  ethical,  aesthetic,  or  logical  consciousness  de- 
mands as  the  ideal.  For  Kant  the  universe  is 
essentially  what  the  moral  consciousness  implies, — what  ought 
to  be :  the  noumenal  world  must  be  a  spiritual  realm,  a  kingdom 
of  ends,  a  free  rational  community  in  which  each  person  wills 
the  union.  Fichte's  world-view  is  similar  to  this,  and  Lotze, 
too,  is  guided  in  his  thought  by  the  conception  of  the  good :  we 
cannot  conceive  the  world  otherwise  than  based  on  a  good  prin- 
ciple. The  introduction  of  such  conceptions  into  metaphysics 
is  said  by  many  to  rob  it  of  its  scientific  character.  Philosophy, 
they  hold,  is  a  work  of  the  theoretical  intellect;  its  business  is 
to  offer  an  explanation  of  reality  free  from  the  demands  of 
man's  moral  or  aesthetic  or  religious  nature.  The  universe  should 
not  be  conceived  in  terms  of  what  we  desire,  in  terms  of  what 
ought  to  be,  but  in  terms  of  what  is.  Against  this  scientific 
and  rationalistic  view,  it  is  pointed  out  by  the  value-philosophers 
that  the  desire  for  truth  and  rationality,  the  demand  for  logical 
consistency  and  unity,  is  itself  a  craving  for  what  ought  to  be ; 
that  here,  too,  we  are  moved  by  an  ideal:  it  offends  our  love  of 
order  and  harmony,  our  ideal  of  perfection,  or  our  longing  for 
beauty  to  conceive  reality  as  a  chaos.  Hence,  it  is  argued,  the 
logical  impulse  has  not  the  primacy  over  the  other  demands  of 
our  nature,  and  no  philosophical  system  can  be  adequate  that 
fails  to  do  justice  to  them  all. 

W.  Windelband  (born  1848;  Praludien,  3d  ed.,  1907,  Qt- 
schichte  und  Naturwissenschaft,  3d  ed.,  1904,  Willensfreihei.; 
2d  ed.,  1905,  Wille  zur  Wahrheit,  1909),  who  has  been  influence  3 


NEW  IDEALISM  501 

by  Kant  and  Fichte,  works  out  this  teaching  in  the  spirit  of  the 
critical  philosophy.  According  to  him,  philosophy  is  the  science 
of  universal  values,  the  study  of  the  principles  of  absolute  value- 
judgments  (logical,  ethical,  aesthetic) ;  the  subject-matter  of  all 
other  sciences  being  theoretical  judgments.  There  is  a  funda- 
mental difference  between  the  propositions :  This  thing  is  white, 
and,  This  thing  is  good.  In  the  one  case  we  predicate  a  quality 
belonging  to  the  presented  objective  content;  in  the  other,  a 
relation  pointing  to  a  consciousness  that  sets  up  a  purpose.  The 
validity  of  logical  axioms,  moral  laws,  and  aesthetic  rules  cannot 
be  proved;  the  truth  of  each  rests  upon  a  purpose  that  must  be 
presupposed  as  the  ideal  of  our  thinking,  feeling,  or  willing. 
That  is,  if  you  desire  truth,  you  must  recognize  the  validity  of 
the  principles  of  thought ;  if  you  are  convinced  that  there  is  an 
absolute  standard  of  right  and  wrong,  you  must  recognize  the 
validity  of  certain  moral  norms;  if  beauty  is  to  be  something 
more  than  subjective  satisfaction,  you  must  recognize  a  universal 
norm  for  it.  All  such  axioms  are  norms  whose  validity  is  based 
on  the  presupposition  that  thought  aims  to  realize  the  purpose 
to  be  true;  the  will,  the  purpose  to  be  good;  and  feeling,  the 
purpose  to  apprehend  beauty, — in  such  a  way  as  to  be  uni- 
versally acceptable.  Faith  in  universal  purposes  is  the  presup- 
position of  the  critical  method ;  without  it,  the  critical  philosophy 
can  mean  nothing. 

Logical  rules  are,  therefore,  necessary  instruments  of  the  will 
for  truth.  This,  however,  is  not  to  be  understood  in  the  prag- 
matic sense  that  their  utility  is  their  truth ;  truth  is  not  derived 
from  the  will  but  from  the  things  themselves,  and  is  not  an 
arbitrary  affair.  Windelband  distinguishes  between  natural  sci- 
ences and  the  sciences  of  events:  the  former  deal  with  the 
constant,  the  abstract,  the  universal,  with  law ;  they  are  ' '  nomo- 
thetic;"  the  latter  (history)  deal  with  the  individual,  the  con- 
crete, the  unique,  the  novel,  and  are  "  idiographic. " 

To  be  mentioned  in  the  same  connection  are  the  writings  of  H. 
Rickert  (Grenzen  der  naturwiss.  Begriffsbildung,  2d  ed.,  1913;  Kultvr- 
wissenschaft  und  Naturwissenschaft,  2d  ed.,  1910),  and  H.  Miinsterberg 
(Psychology  and  Life,  1899,  Eternal  Life,  1905,  Science  and  Idealism, 
L906,  Eternal  Values,  1909).  W.  Dilthry  emphasizes  the  uniqueness  of 
the  mental  sciences  (Introduction  to  the  Mental  Sciences,  1883),  a* 
distinguished  from  the  natural  sciences.  We  must  study  the  relations. 


502  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

methods,  and  presuppositions  of  the  mental  sciences;  in  them  we  gain 
a  knowledge  of  reality,  values,  norms,  and  purposes,  by  reflecting  on 
the  expressions  of  the  mind  in  history  and  psychology.  Metaphysics, 
however,  as  a  logical  system  of  reality,  values,  and  purposes  is  im- 
possible. The  mental  sciences  are  based  on  a  teleological,  descriptive- 
analytical  psychology,  which  is  general  psychology,  comparative  psy- 
chology, social-historical  psychology. 

Eudolf  Eucken  (born  1846)  offers  a  system  of  metaphysics 
that  seeks  to  do  justice  to  human  values,  as  well  as  to  the  logical 
intellect,  and  has  succeeded  in  arousing  an  interest  in  ethical 
idealism  outside  of  academic  circles  and  in  many  lands. 

Geistige  Stromungen  der  Gegenwart,  1909  (transl.  by  Booth,  under  the 
title  Main  Currents  of  Modern  Thought},  first  appeared  1878,  under 
the  title  Geschichte  und  Kritik  der  Grundbegriffe  der  Gegenwart;  Die 
Lebensanschauungen  der  grossen  Denker,  1890,  transl.  by  Hough  and 
Boyce  Gibson,  under  the  title,  Problem  of  Life;  Der  Kampf  um  einen 
geistigen  Lebensinhalt,  1896;  Der  Sinn  und  Werth  des  Lebens,  1907, 
transl.  by  Boyce  Gibson,  under  the  title:  Value  and  Meaning  of  Life; 
Grundlinien  einer  neuen  Lebensanschauung,  1907,  transl.  by  Widgery, 
under  the  title:  Life's  Basis  and  Life's  Ideal;  Einfuhrung  in  eine 
Philosophie  des  Geisteslebens,  1908,  transl.  by  Pogson,  under  the  title : 
The  Life  of  the  Spirit;  Ethics  and  Modern  Thought,  1913.  On  Eucken 
see  Boyce  Gibson,  Eucken' s  Philosophy  of  Life;  Booth,  Eucken:  His 
Philosophy  and  Influence;  Siebert,  Eucken's  Welt-  und  Lebensan- 
schauung;  A.  J.  Jones,  Eucken:  A  Philosophy  of  Life. 

According  to  Eucken,  neither  naturalism  nor  intellectualism 
can  fully  interpret  reality;  the  former  always  tacitly  presup- 
poses the  mental  world  which  its  principles  deny, 
Eucken  ,.. 

while  the  latter  can  never  make  experience  square 

with  logical  thought.  The  mind  with  its  yearning  for  the 
infinite,  revealing  itself  in  ourselves  and  in  history,  points  to 
a  universal  spiritual  process,  an  independent  and  intelligible 
world  beyond,  as  the  source  of  all  individual  mental  life.  We 
experience  such  a  free,  self-active  spirit  in  ourselves:  it  is  an 
axiomatic  fact  or  act  which  we  cannot  deduce,  but  only  appre- 
hend in  its  immediacy.  In  his  essence  man  transcends  history; 
he  is  a  historical  being  only  in  so  far  as  he  is  imperfect  and 
strives  for  perfection.  Either  the  spiritual  life  is  an  epiphe- 
nomenon  of  material  nature  or  it  is  a  self -existent  totality,  ;i 
universal  whole,  the  source  of  all  being.  If  human  life  is  a  mera 
incident  in  nature,  then  it  is  nugatory;  all  that  is  noblest 


POSITIVISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  IN  FRANCE     503 

and  best  in  it  is  a  mere  illusion,  and  the  universe  irrational. 
What  religion  is  struggling  for,  is  not  the  happiness  of  man, 
but  the  preservation  of  a  genuine  spiritual  life  on  a  human 
basis.  The  sharp  contrast  between  the  spiritual  endowment  in 
man  and  his  real  situation  inspires  him  with  the  deep  conviction 
that  a  higher  power  is  active  in  him.  The  yearning  for  truth 
and  love,  the  longing  to  live  a  genuine  life  instead  of  drifting 
with  the  current  of  mere  phenomena,  we  cannot  uproot  from 
the  human  heart.  The  ceaseless  striving  in  man,  the  impulse 
for  self-activity,  immediacy,  and  infinity  would  be  inconceivable 
without  the  operation  in  him  of  an  infinite  power.  If  there  is 
no  transcendent  world,  the  spiritual  life  falls  to  pieces  and 
loses  its  inner  truth.  An  idealistic  pantheism  rises  out  of  the 
desire  for  a  higher  world. 

The  universal  life  forms  the  ground  of  all  being, — of  human 
history,  of  human  consciousness,  and  of  nature  itself.  The 
universal  process  evolves  from  the  inorganic  to  the  organic, 
from  nature  to  mind,  from  mere  natural  soul-life  to  spiritual 
life;  and  in  this  process  of  evolution  towards  independence 
and  self-realization  the  world  becomes  conscious  of  itself.  Hu- 
man personality  is  not,  however,  submerged  in  this  universal 
mind;  indeed,  the  development  of  individuality  is  possible  only 
within,  and  as  sharing  in,  the  universal  life. 


PHILOSOPHY  IN  FRANCE  AND  ENGLAND 

66.   POSITIVISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  IN  FRANCE 

In  France,  the  Enlightenment,  which  rested  on  a  naturalistic 
philosophy,  brought  in  the  great  revolution  with  its  disturbing 
social  and  political  changes.  After  the  revolution, 
the  sensationalistic  and  materialistic  theories  (Con- 
dillac,  the  Encyclopedists,  Holbach),  which  had 
been  so  popular  during  the  last  half  of  the  eight- 
eenth century,  lost  their  vogue,  and  new  philosophies  came  to 
the  front.  It  was  not  strange  that  an  excess  of  criticism  and 
liberalism  should  have  aroused  a  conservative  reaction,  and  that 
the  demand  for  free  thought  should  have  been  opposed  by  a 
school  of  thinkers  who  emphasized  the  principle  of  authority  and 


504,  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

offered  a  supernaturalistic  philosophy  as  a  remedy  to  the  trou- 
bled age.  Thus,  Joseph  de  Maistre  (1754-1821)  declared  that 
human  reason  had  shown  itself  impotent  in  governing  man,  and 
that  faith,  authority,  tradition  alone  could  hold  him  in  check 
and  bring  about  a  stable  order  of  society.  Psychology,  however, 
seemed  to  offer  the  best  arguments  against  materialism  and  be- 
came the  most  promising  field  of  study.  Condillac  's  sensational- 
ism had  proved  unsatisfactory  even  to  members  of  his  school. 
The  materialist  Cabanis  called  attention  to  vital  feelings  and 
instinctive  reactions,  elements  of  conscious  life  which  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  explain  as  mere  products  of  external  senses.  Maine  de 
Biran  (1766-1824),  who  began  as  a  follower  of  Condillac  and 
Cabanis,  finds  in  the  feeling  of  effort  the  central  element  of 
consciousness  and  the  basal  principle  of  knowledge :  in  this  inner 
experience,  he  thinks,  we  become  directly  aware  of  the  activity 
of  the  soul  as  well  as  of  the  existence  of  a  material  world.  The 
feeling  of  effort  is  also  the  basis  of  our  notions  of  force,  causality, 
unity,  identity,  and  so  forth. 

The  most  important  opposition  to  materialism,  however,  came 
from  Royer-Collard  (1763-1845),  Victor  Cousin  (1792-1867), 
and  T.  Jouffroy  (1796-1842).  Eoyer-Collard,  an  eloquent 
teacher  of  philosophy  at  the  Sorbonne,  accepted  the  common- 
sense  philosophy  of  Thomas  Reid.  Cousin  offered  an  eclectic 
system  with  a  spiritualistic  keynote,  which  showed  the  influence 
of  Reid,  Collard,  Biran,  Schelling,  and  Hegel,  and  became  a 
leading  force  in  French  education. 

On  French  philosophy  of  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
see  Levy-Bruhl,  History  of  Modern  Philosophy  in  France;  Morell, 
Speculative  Philosophy  of  Europe  in  the  Nineteenth  Century,  2d  ed., 
1847;  Flint,  Philosophy  of  History  in  France;  Damiron,  Histoire  de 
la  philosophic  en  France  au  XIXe  siecle,  3d  ed.,  1834;  works  by 
Taine,  Ravaisson,  Ferraz;  Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  cit.,  Part  IH,  vol.  II, 
§§  35-40.  Bibliography  in  Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  cit. 

Not  one   of  these  movements,   however,   possessed   sufficient 
vigor  to  satisfy  the  needs  of  an  age  that  still  felt  an  interest 
in  the  ideals  of  liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity. 
The  reform  of  human  society  remained  the  dream    Samt-Simon 
of  a  large  part  of  French  thinkers,  and  practical  questions  ap- 
pealed to  them  more  strongly  than  the  theories  of  eclectic  phi- 


POSITIVISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  IN  FRANCE     505 

losophers.  The  political  revolution  had  not  brought  universal 
happiness,  it  is  true;  the  ignorance  and  misery  of  the  lower 
classes  had  not  been  removed  by  the  proclamation  of  universal 
human  rights.  It  was  now  held  that  the  goal  could  be  reached 
by  social  evolution,  through  the  gradual  reform  of  society  by 
education  and  enlightenment.  Claude  Henri  de  Saint-Simon 
(1760-1825)  conceived  the  idea  of  a  new  science  of  society  which 
would  do  away  with  the  unequal  distribution  of  property,  power, 
culture,  and  happiness.  The  main  thing,  according  to  him,  was 
the  economic  and  intellectual  emancipation  of  the  workers;  the 
form  of  government  he  regarded  as  immaterial.  A  new  Chris- 
tianity is  needed,  he  declared,  which  shall  preach  not  self-denial, 
but  love  of  the  world,  and  emphasize  the  command  of  love,  which 
for  Saint-Simon  meant  love  of  the  poor  and  lowly.  The  reform 
of  society  presupposes  a  knowledge  of  social  laws  and,  there- 
fore, implies  a  reform  of  the  sciences  as  well  as  of  our  world- 
view.  The  present,  he  holds,  is  a  period  of  criticism,  negation, 
and  dissolution,  an  age  of  spiritual  chaos,  a  critical  and  not  an 
organic  age.  The  medieval  age  was  an  age  of  construction,  an 
age  of  spiritual  and  social  organization,  an  organic  age,  and  to 
such  a  period  we  must  again  return.  We  need  a  new  system 
of  thought,  and  this  must  be  a  positive  philosophy:  a  system 
based  on  experience  and  science. 

Saint-Simon,  a  sympathetic  seer  and  enthusiast  rather  than  a  sys- 
tematic thinker,  was  not  the  man  to  construct  the  positive  philosophy. 
The  task  was  undertaken  by  Auguste  Comte,  who  had 
been  commissioned  by  Saint-Simon  to  write  for  his  Comte 
Catechisme  des  industries  (1823-1824)  the  part  dealing 
with  the  scientific  system  of  education;  but  the  account  did  not  seem 
to  the  master  to  do  justice  to  the  emotional  and  religious  phase  of 
education.  Comte  was  born,  1798,  in  Montpellier,  the  son  of  an 
orthodox  Catholic  family.  He  attended  the  polytechnical  school  at 
Paris  (1814-1816),  where  he  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  exact  sciences 
and  imbibed  the  principles  of  Saint-Simonism,  which  had  an  enthusi- 
astic following  in  that  institution.  After  leaving  the  school,  he  studied 
biology  and  history  and  gave  lessons  in  mathematics  in  order  to  gain 
his  livelihood.  He  became  associated  with  Saint-Simon  for  a  number 
of  years,  but  the  men  did  not  agree,  and  Comte  began  to  work  out 
his  own  ideas  independently  of  the  master,  supporting  himself,  as  beat 
he  could,  by  means  of  his  pen  and  by  giving  private  instruction.  Al- 
though he  made  several  attempts  to  obtain  a  professorship,  he  never 
succeeded.  He  died  in  1857. 

Plan  des  travaux  scientifiques  ntcessaires  pour  reorganise  la  soctfti, 


506  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

1822;  Politique  positive,  1824;  Cours  de  philosophic  positive,  6  vols., 
1830-1842  (abridged  transl.  by  H.  Martineau) ;  Systeme  de  la  politique 
positive,  ou  traite  de  sociologie  instituant  la  religion  de  I'humanite, 
4  vols.,  1851-1854  (contains  Plan;  transl.) ;  Catechisme  positiviste,  ou 
sommaire  exposition  de  la  religion  universelle,  1853  (transl.  by  Con- 
greve).  Letters  of  Comte  to  Valet,  1877,  and  Mill,  1877. 

J.  S.  Mill,  Comte  and  Positivism;  E.  Caird,  Social  Philosophy  and 
Religion  of  Comte;  Watson,  Comte,  Mill,  and  Spencer;  Whittaker, 
Comte  and  Mill;  Littre,  Comte  et  la  philosophic  positiviste;  Levy- 
Bruhl,  La  philosophic  d'A.  Comte;  Duherme,  Comte  et  son  osuvre; 
Dupuy,  Le  positivisme  de  Comte;  Defourny,  La  sociologie  positiviste. 

As  the  titles  of  his  books  indicate,  Comte 's  ideal  is,  like  that 
of  Saint-Simon,  the  reform  of  society.  This  end  cannot  be 
reached  until  we  have  a  knowledge  of  the  laws 
Reform  of  Of  society,  a  social  science,  which,  in  turn,  pre- 
the^ScLnces  suPPoses  a^  the  other  sciences  and  a  philosophical 
point  of  view.  The  reform  of  society,  therefore, 
calls  for  the  reform  of  political  and  social  science  and  philoso- 
phy,— a  new  philosophy,  to  the  working  out  of  which  our  author 
devoted  his  entire  life.  The  Middle  Ages  had  their  world- view, — 
a  common  conception  of  the  universe  and  of  life, — in  their  the- 
ology, which,  however,  represented  a  primitive  stage  of  thought. 
The  remarkable  development  of  the  natural  sciences  in  modern 
times,  especially  in  France,  suggested  the  scientific  method  as 
the  one  to  be  followed  in  the  new  undertaking.  The  sole  object  of 
science  is  to  discover  natural  laws  or  the  constant  relations 
existing  between  facts,  and  this  can  be  done  only  by  observa- 
tion and  experience.  Knowledge  thus  acquired  is  positive  knowl- 
edge ;  and  only  such  knowledge  can  be  successfully  applied,  in 
the  various  fields  of  human  practice,  as  is  verified  by  positive 
science.  Wherever  we  have  not  yet  reached  such  knowledge, 
it  is  our  business  to  obtain  it  by  imitating  the  methods  employed 
in  the  advanced  natural  sciences.  We  see,  Comte  here  sides 
with  the  thinkers  of  the  empirical  school;  he  belongs  to  the 
chain  of  philosophers  in  which  Hume  and  Diderot  are  important 
links. 

Positive  knowledge,  which  is  Comte 's  ideal,  is  the  result  of 
historical  evolution.  The  human  mind  passes  through  three 
stages  (the  law  of  the  three  stages)  or  employs  three  methods 
of  philosophizing:  the  theological,  the  metaphysical,  and  the 
positive,  each  of  which  has  its  practical  value  and  its  correspond- 


POSITIVISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  IN  FRANCE     507 

ing  social  institutions.  On  the  theological  stage,  the  age  of  child- 
hood, man  regards  things  anthropomorphically,  as  the  expressions 
of  supernatural  beings,  passing  from  fetichism 
through  polytheism  to  monotheism.  This  is  the  age  ] 
of  monarchy  and  absolute  authority,  and  has  priests 
as  its  leaders.  On  the  metaphysical  stage,  the  age  of  youth, 
abstract  powers  or  entities  are  substituted  for  personal  beings; 
such  powers  or  essences  are  supposed  to  inhere  in  the  different 
things  and  to  be  the  necessary  causes  of  the  phenomena  observed 
in  the  things ;  from  the  knowledge  of  these  causes,  the  knowledge 
of  their  effects  is  said  to  be  deduced.  At  first,  different  powers 
are  assumed  to  explain  different  groups  of  phenomena, — such  as 
chemical  force,  vital  force,  mental  force, — but  the  tendency  is 
to  reach  a  single  primary  force,  as  on  the  preceding  stage.  The 
metaphysical  age  is  the  age  of  nationalism  and  popular  sover- 
eignty; jurists  are  its  leading  spirits.  Both  theology  and  meta- 
physics believe  in  the  possibility  of  absolute  knowledge  and  of 
explaining  the  innermost  essence  of  things.  On  the  stage  of 
positivism,  the  attempt  to  discover  the  inner  essences  of  things 
is  abandoned  as  futile^and  replaced  by^4heeffort  to  discover  the 
uniform  relations  existing  between  'phenomena.  The  question 
asked  is  not  Why?  but  How?  Laws  of  nature  are  substituted 
for  absolute  causes ;  the  aim  now  is  to  ascertain  invariable  rela- 
tions between  facts  by  the  method  of  observation.  Gal>leo, 
Kepler,  and  Newton  have  established  the  positive  sciences.  We 
cannot  know  what  heat,  light,  and  electricity  are  in  themselves, 
but  we  can  know  the  conditions  under  whifeh  they  occur;  and  the 
general  phenomena  common  to  such  conditions,  that  is,V  the 
general  laws  governing  them :  to  explain  light  is  to  bring  >Min 
the  laws  of  motion.  Such  knowledge,  is  sufficient  for  prai" 
purposes;  to  see  in  order  to  foresee  tyirjpour  pi- 
motto  of  the  positivist. 

The  human  mind  seeks  to  reduce  everything  to  olnity,  but  this 
is  a  mere  subjective  bent.  We  cannot  reduce  the  many  different 
laws  of  nature  to  a  single  all-embracing  law ;  experience  reveals 
too  many  irreducible  differences  for  that.  The  term  positive, 
says  Comte,  means  real,  useful,  certain  and  indubitable,  exact, 
it  means  the  opposite  of  negative:  positive  knowledge  is  not  mere 
negation  or  criticism. 


508  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

It  is  also  necessary,  however,  to  construct  a  positive  philoso- 
phy, which  shall  collect  and  arrange  the  general  laws  yielded 
by  the  different  sciences,  give  us  the  method  corn- 
Classification  mon  to  them,  and  show  how  these  sciences  are 
Sciences  connected  with  one  another, — that  is,  provide  us 

with  a  classification  of  the  sciences.  Such  a  syn- 
thesis is  of  value  to  education  as  well  as  a  means  of  overcoming 
the  evils  of  specialism.  Comte  arranges  the  sciences  according 
to  the  order  in  which  they  enter  upon  the  positive  stage :  mathe- 
matics (arithmetic,  geometry,  mechanics),  astronomy,  physics, 
chemistry,  biology,  and  sociology  (to  which  he  later  adds  ethics 
as  the  culmination  of  them  all).  This  classification  also  ex- 
hibits a  gradual  advance  from  simplicity  to  complexity :  mathe- 
matics, which  contains  the  simplest,  most  abstract  and  universal 
propositions,  corner/first  and  forms  the  basis  of  all  the  rest, 
while  sociology,  the  most  complex  of  all,  presupposes  the  sciences 
preceding  it.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  the  simpler  and  more 
general  the  laws  are,  the  wider  will  be  their  application.  The 
truths  of  geometry  hold  for  all  phenomena  in  so  far  as  they  are 
regarded  as  extended  (static  view) ;  those  of  mechanics  hold  for 
all  phenomena  in,  so  far  as  they  are  regarded  as  in  motion 
(dynamic  view)/  Although  every  science  in  the  ascending  series 
presupposes  its  predecessors,  it  is  not  assumed  that  the  phe- 
nomena with  which  it  deals  can  be  derived  from  the  simpler 
ones, — the  phenomena  of  life,  for  example,  from  phenomena  of 
motion.  That  would  be  materialism,  and  Comte  rejects  mate- 
rialism: we  cannot  explain  organic  phenomena  mechanically  or 
chemically.  In  each  of  the  six  fields  of  science,  a  new  element 
is  added  which  is  distinct  from  those  of  the  others.  The  same 
remarks  apply  to  phenomena  within  a  single  science:  heat  is 
distinct  from  electricity,  the  plant  from  the  animal,  the  various 
organic  species  from  each  other. 

We  miss  in  Comte 's  list  of  sciences  the  names  of  logic,  psy- 
chology, and  ethics.  Logic  as  the  science  of  intellectual  func- 
tions would  seem  to  take  precedence  even  of  mathematics,  but 
the  French  philosophers  regarded  it  as  a  branch  of  psychology ; 
and  psychology  was  not  a  special  science,  according  to  Comte. 
^tind  or  soul  is  a  metaphysical  entity  and  does  not  exist  for 
positivism:  we  cannot  observe  mental  processes  subjectively,  in- 


POSITIVISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  IN  FRANCE     509 

;rospection  being  impossible.  All  we  can  do  is  to  study  them 
sbjectively,  that  is,  the  organic  phenomena  with  which  they  are 
connected  and  the  human  institutions  in  which  they  are  ex- 
pressed. Psychology,  therefore,  belongs,  in  part,  to  biology,  in 
part  to  sociology.  The  fact  is,  the  insertion  of  psychology  into 
the  scheme  would  have  given  Comte  a  great  deal  of  trouble; 
geometry  and  mechanics  would  not  be  applicable  to  unique  proc- 
esses like  mental  processes,  and  the  classification  would  break 
lown.  But  if  organic  processes,  though  regarded  as  unique  and 
lot  explainable  mechanically,  can  have  their  place  in  the  series, 
it  is  not  to  be  seen  why  psychology  should  be  excluded.  Conn 
lid  not  work  out  these  ideas  consistently;  his  interest  in  tl 
phrenology  of  Gall  and  his  aversion  to  all  spiritualistic  psy- 
chology led  him  to  regard  psychic  states  as  functions  of  the 
brain.  ^ 

The  last  and  most  complex  science  in  the  scale,  and  the  one 
about  to  enter  upon  the  positive  stage,  is  sociology,  which  de- 
pends upon  the  others,  especially  upon  biology  (for 
society  is  made  up  of  organic  individuals),  and   |£? 
comprises  economics,  ethics,  the  philosophy  of  his- 
tory, and  a  large  part  of  psychology.    Comte  claimed  the  credit 
of  being  the  founder  of  this  science,  and  gave  it  its  name.    It 
is  impossible  to  study  psychology,  ethics,  and  economics  apart 
from  the  science  of  society  and  the  philosophy  of  history:  the 
phenomena  with  which  they  deal  stand  in  reciprocal  relation 
with  society  and  social  evolution.     Social  statics  is  a  study  of 
society  as  a  fact,  of  the  laws  of  its  existence,  of  the  social  order; 
social  dynamics,  a  study  of  society  in  its  evolution :  it  is  a  phi- 
losophy of  history  and  aims  to  trace  the  progress  of  soc 

Social  life  owes  its  origin,  not  to  self-interest,  but  to  the 
social  impulse.  Man  has  egoistic  impulses,  and  these,  too,  are 
indispensable  to  society.  The  nobler  impulses,  the  altruistic 
feelings,  supported  by  intelligence,  gain  the  mastery  over  the 
selfish  instincts,  which  are  stronger  in  the  beginning  than  altru- 
ism (a  term  coined  by  Comte)  and  which  must  be  held  in  check 
in  order  to  make  society  possible.  The  family  is  the  social  unit 
and  the  preparation  for  a  larger  social  life.  Int.  lliu-«'nc.>  is  the 
leading  principle  in  progress.  Progress  consists  in  the  develop- 
ment  of  the  human  functions  which  distinguish  man  from  the 


510  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

brute,  in  the  advance  of  reason  and  the  higher  or  nobler  im- 
pulses. Society  passes  through  three  stages  of  evolution,  corre- 
sponding to  the  stages  of  intelligence  already  pointed  out.  Mili- 
tarism is  characterized  by  order,  discipline,  force:  organization 
is  the  primary  condition  of  progress.  It  is  followed  by  the  revo- 
lutionary stage,  the  stage  of  political  rights,  a  transition  period 
of  negation.  The  positive  stage,  "  the  definitive  stage  of  hu- 
manity," is  the  stage  of  industrialism,  in  which  the  emphasis 
is  placed  on  the  social  problem  instead  of  the  political  problem 
and  individual  rights.  It  is  the  era  of  experts  whose  function 
it  will  be  to  guide  scientific  research,  to  superintend  public  in- 
struction, to  inform  public  opinion,  on  the  one  hand;  and j to 
regulate  social  production  on  the  other.  Comte  is  opposed  to 
popular  representation  on  the  ground  that  it  would  make  the 
experts  dependent  on  the  ignorant.  Public  opinion  is  the  anti- 
dote to  misgovernment.  He  believes  that  the  social  problem 
is,  after  all,  a  moral  problem,  that  the  positive  State  will  be 
brought  about  by  a  change  in  ideas  and  customs. 

As  we  pointed  out  in  the  beginning,  Comte 's  leading  thought 
is  the  reform  of  society,  and  this  necessarily  rests  on  an  ethical 
ideal.  He  interprets  history  in  the  light  of  his  ideal:  progress 
means  the  realization  of  the  ideal  of  humanity,  it  means  the 
perfection  of  man  in  society.  History  is  moving  toward  the 
ideal ;  intellectual,  social,  and  ethical  evolution  is  making  straight 
for  positivism :  the  definitive  stage  of  humanity.  It  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  see  that  positivism  ends  in  dogmatism:  it  becomes  a  sys- 
tem of  metaphysics. 

During  his  later  period,   Comte  laid   greater   stress  on  the 

emotional  and  practical  phases  of  life  and  brought  the  ethical 

ideal  into  bolder  relief.    Formerly,  intelligence  had 

Ethics  and  been  emphasized  as  the  great  factor  in  the  reform 
the  Religion  «  .  ,  ,  ,  ,  ,  .  , 

of  Humanity    °*  society ;  n°w  reason  and  science  are  brought  into 

the  right  relation  with  feeling  and  practice.  The 
objective  method  is  replaced  by  the  subjective  method,  sub- 
jective in  the  sense  that  it  connects  knowledge  with  the  satisfac- 
tion of  subjective  needs  and  with  the  desire  for  unity  and 
simplicity  in  our  world-view.  Ethics  is  added  to  the  science? 
as  the  seventh  and  highest  science,  as  the  goal  of  which  all  tho 
others  are  parts.  The  great  human  problem  is  to  subordinate, 


POSITIVISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  IN  FRANCE     511 

so  far  as  possible,  the  personality  to  sociability ;  everything  must 
be  related  to  humanity,  love  is  the  central  impulse,  to  live  for 
others  the  absolute  demand.  Humanity  is  the  Great  Being 
worthy  of  worship. 

Positivism  did  not  put  an  end  to  the  spiritualistic  eclecticism 
of  Cousin.    A  reaction,  however,  arose  within  this  school  itself, 
and  a  number  of  independent  thinkers  (Bordas- 
Demoulin,  Ravaisson,  Secretan,  Vacherot)  attacked  Idealistic 
eclecticism,  some  from  the  standpoint  of  science, 
others  from  the  standpoint  of  German  idealism. 
We  also  find  a  Platonic-Christian  movement  within  the  Catholic 
lergy  of  France  (Lamennais,  1782-1854),  and  a  revival  of  the 
Thomistic  system,  especially  at  the  University  of  Louvain,  Bel- 
gium, which  continues  to  be  a  seat  of  serious  philosophical  study 
to  this  day.    Positivism,  however,  which  had  a  large  following 
(Littre,  Taine,  Renan),  was  not  favorable  to  metaphysical  studies, 
>ut  encouraged  specialism  in  psychology  (Th.  Ribot)  and  sociol- 
ogy (O.  Tarde,  E.  Durkheim).    The  theory  of  evolution  likewise 
helped  to  weaken  the  influence  of  spiritualism. 

Under  the  leadership  of  C.  Renouvier  (1818-1903),  editor 
of  Critique  philosophique,  a  school  has  arisen  which  bases  itself 
on  Kant's  criticism  and  opposes  both  positivism  and  the  tradi- 
tional spiritualism.  Renouvier  calls  his  system  Neocriticism, 
which,  however,  develops  into  an  idealistic  metaphysics, — similar 
to  the  monadology  of  Leibniz, — of  which  pluralism  and  person- 
alism  are  the  characteristic  features.  There  is  no  noumenal 
world,  no  thing-in-itself ;  things,  so  far  as  they  are  presented, 
are  phenomena,  and  nothing  exists  for  us  but  ideas.  The  notion 
of  an  actual  infinitude  is  a  logical  contradiction,  as  well  as  a 
contradiction  of  experience.  The  universe  is  a  finite  sum  of 
finite  beings.  Hence,  there  can  be  no  infinite  transitions  in  phe- 
nomena; whence  follows  the  necessity  of  the  notion  cf  discon- 
tinuity. The  idea  of  discontinuity  implies  the  possibility  of 
uncaused  beginnings  and  free  will.  Knowledge,  therefore,  is 
relative,  and  is  limited  to  the  discovery  of  the  relations  existing 
between  things. 

Some  of  Renouvier 's  ideas  were  anticipated  by  Antoine 
Cournot  (1807-1877),  who  finds  chance  and  contingency  in  na- 


512  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

ture  and  in  history.  The  laws  of  nature  are  only  approximately 
true.  Chance  consists  in  the  combination  or  concurrence  of 
events  which  belong  to  independent  series  of  occurrence. 

Among  those  who  have  been  influenced  by  Renouvier  are  F. 
Pillon,  E.  Boutroux,  H.  Bergson,  and  "William  James. 

Works  of  Cournot:  La  theorie  des  chances  et  des  probabilites,  1843; 
Essaisur  les  fondements  de  nos  connaissances,  1851;  Traite  de  Venchaine- 
ment  des  idees  fondamentales  dans  les  sciences  et  dans  I'histoire,  1861. 
Works  of  Renouvier:  Essais  de  critique  generale,  4  vols.,  1854-1864, 
2d  ed.,  1875-1896;  La  nouvelle  monadologie  (with  L.  Prat),  1899; 
Le  personnalisme,  1902;  Derniers  entretiens,  1905.  Valuable  critical 
articles  by  Pillon  in  Annee  philosophique,  of  which  he  is  the  editor. 
Works  of  Boutroux :  De  la  contingence  des  lois  de  la  nature,  1874,  4th 
ed.,  1902;  Etudes  d'histoire  de  la  philosophie,  2d  ed.,  1901,  transl.  by 
Rothwell;  Science  et  religion,  1908,  transl.  by  Nield;  Questions  de 
morale  et  de  pedagogie,  1896,  transl.  by  Rothwell.  For  James  and 
Bergson,  see  sections  72  and  73. 

On  the  philosophy  of  the  second  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  see: 
Levy-Bruhl,  op.  cit.j  Boutroux,  La  philosophie  en  France  depuis  1867  ; 
Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  cit.,  §§  40-46.  Bibliography  of  the  movement 
in  Ueberweg-Heinze.  Cf.  also  Hoffding,  Moderne  Philosophen  (French 
transl.:  Philosophes  contemporains) ;  monographs  on  Renouvier  by 
Seailles,  Janssens,  Ascher;  Feigel,  Der  franzosische  Neokritizismus. 
For  Cournot  see  Revue  de  metaphysique  et  de  morale,  May,  1905; 
Bottinelli,  A.  Cournot. 

A.  Fouillee  (1838-1912)  attempts  to  reconcile  idealism  and 
materialism  in  his  voluntaristic  and  evolutionistic  philosophy  of 
idees-forces.  Materialism  is  one-sided  when  it  emphasizes  mo- 
tion to  the  exclusion  of  other  factors ;  idealism  is  one-sided  when 
it  emphasizes  thought.  Mind  and  matter,  consciousness  and 
life,  operate  in  nature  as  a  single  principle.  Mind  and  matter 
are  two  abstractions  of  one  unique  and  total  reality,  two  ways 
of  conceiving  one  and  the  same  thing.  All  psychic  phenomena 
are  expressions  of  an  impulse  or  appetition.  Psychic  existence 
is  the  only  reality  which  is  directly  given  to  us,  hence  we  have 
the  right  to  interpret  the  world  in  analogy  with  active  mind  or 
idees-forces. 

FouilleVs  views  are  presented  in:  La  liberte  et  le  determinisme,  187:2; 
L'evolutionisme  des  idees-forces  (main  work),  1890;  La  psychologic  des 
idees-forces,  1893;  La  morale  des  idees-forces,  1908;  La  pensee,  1912; 
Esquisse  d'une  interpretation  du  monde,  1913.  See  A.  Guyau,  La 
philosophie  et  la  sociologie  d'A.  Fouillee,  and  works  under  Renouvitr. 

Jean  Guyau  (1854-1888),  the  brilliant  pupil  of  Fouillee,  emphasize* 


SCOTTISH  RATIONALISTIC  PHILOSOPHY         513 

the  tendency  in  the  universal  life-impulse  toward  unification,  which 
sxpresses  itself  in  human  altruism  no  less  than  in  the  forces  of  nature. 
The  evolution  of  the  principle  of  solidarity  and  sociality  is  the  common 
3haracteristic  of  morality,  religion,  and  art.  Among  Guyau's  works 
are:  Esquisse  d'une  morale  sans  obligation  ni  sanction,  1885,  5th  ed., 
1.903;  L'irreligion  de  Vavenir,  1887,  7th  ed.,  1904;  Education  et 
heredite,  1889,  5th  ed.,  1900;  Les  problemes  de  I'esthetique  content 
voraine,  1884,  6th  ed.,  1901.  Fouillee,  La  morale,  I'art  et  la  religion 
1'apres  Guyau,  1889.  The  first  three  books  have  been  translated. 


67.   SCOTTISH  RATIONALISTIC  PHILOSOPHY 

Although  English  philosophy  had  shown  a  decided  leaning 
toward  nominalism  and  empiricism,  and  indifference  to  meta- 
physics, since  the  days  of  William  of  Occam,  the 
opposing  schools  never  entirely  disappeared.  We  ^j; 
have  already  mentioned  the  Cambridge  Platonists 
of  the  seventeenth  century  and  the  reaction  against  Hume  repre- 
sented by  Thomas  Reid  and  his  school  in  the  eighteenth  and  the 
beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,  when  the  common-sense 
philosophy  dominated  the  Scotch  universities.  The  value  of  the 
latter  movement  consisted  not  so  much  in  its  positive  teachings 
as  in  its  criticisms  of  empiricism  and  the  impetus  it  gave,  in 
England,  to  a  more  thoroughgoing  examination  of  the  popular 
doctrine.  The  Scottish  philosophy  later  came  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  critical  philosophy  of  Kant  in  the  persons  of  William 
Whewell  (1795-1866)  and  Sir  William  Hamilton  (1788-1856). 
Whewell,  who  is  the  author  of  History  of  the  Inductive  Sci- 
ences, Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  and  Elements  of 
Moral  Philosophy,  finds  in  induction  an  element  that  is  ignored 
by  empiricism:  the  mind  itself  contributes  to  the  knowledge  of 
phenomena  a  number  of  ideas  and  principles  by  virtue  of 
which  the  content  of  experience  is  organized  and  unified. 
Through  them  we  interpret  nature  and  translate  its  data  u 
our  own  language,  long  before  we  become  conscious  of  th< 
They  are  unconscious  inferences  and  are  necessary  in  the  sense" 
that  their  opposites  are  inconceivable. 

Such  fundamental  ideas  and  principles  act  in  simple  appre- 
hension; indeed,  we  cannot  conceive  of  any  activity  of  mind  in 
which  they  are  not  at  work.  They  are  acquired  and  developed 
through  experience,  though  not  derived  from  experience:  they 


514  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

do  not  exist  in  the  mind  ready-made,  but  arise  when  the  mind 
is  set  in  motion ;  they  seem  to  be  ways  the  mind  has  of  acting  on 
its  material.  Among  such  principles  Whewell  mentions:  space, 
time,  cause,  and  purpose,  as  well  as  the  moral  axiom  that  we 
ought  to  do  what  is  right.  Like  the  common-sense  philosophy, 
Whewell  calls  attention  to  certain  principles  of  knowledge,  but 
fails  to  subject  these  notions  to  careful  analysis,  and  to  bring 
unity  into  them.  His  works  on  the  inductive  sciences  are  works 
of  merit ;  without  them,  John  Stuart  Mill  tells  us,  he  could  not 
have  accomplished  his  own  task  in  this  field. 

Sir  William   Hamilton   advances  beyond  the  common-sense 

school,  in  the  direction  of  Kantian  criticism.     He  is  a  pro- 

founder  thinker  than  Whewell,  a  keen  logician  and 

dialectician,  and  possesses  a  wider  knowledge  of 

the  history  of  philosophy  than  any  of  his  predecessors.    Among 

his  works  are :  Discussions  on  Philosophy  and  Literature,  1852, 

ff.,   and  Lectures  on  Metaphysics  and  Logic,  1859.     He  was 

chiefly  interested  in  moral  and  religious  problems,  and  found 

in  the  critical  philosophy  a  basis  for  his  theology. 

Hamilton  holds  that  there  are  necessary  or  a  priori  truths, — 
simple  self-evident  truths  which  carry  absolute  conviction  in 
themselves, — universality  and  necessity  being  the  final  tests  of 
such  truths.  All  men,  for  example,  are  convinced  that  two  lines 
cannot  ever  inclose  a  space;  indeed,  they  cannot  possibly  even 
imagine  two  lines  inclosing  space.  In  the  case,  however,  of  some 
necessary  truths  so-called, — the  law  of  causality,  the  law  of  sub- 
stance, and  the  laws  of  identity,  contradiction,  and  excluded 
middle, — it  is  unthinkable  that  the  deliverance  of  consciousness 
should  not  be  true ;  while  in  the  case  of  some  contingent  truths, — 
the  existence  of  an  external  world, — this  is  not  unthinkable, 
and  yet  we  cannot  practically  believe  in  the  falsity  of  it.  The 
inconceivableness  of  the  contradictory  opposite  of  a  proposition 
is  no  test  of  its  truth,  for  the  proposition  itself  may  be  equally 
inconceivable.  Thus,  free  action  and  completely  determined  ac- 
tion are  both  inconceivable.  A  proposition  must  be  positively 
necessary:  it  is  so,  when  it  is  conceivable  and  its  contradictory 
opposite  is  inconceivable.  "  All  positive  thought  lies  between 
two  extremes,  neither  of  which  we  can  conceive  as  possible,  y3t 
as  mutual  contradictories  the  one  or  the  other  we  must  recoj- 


SCOTTISH  RATIONALISTIC  PHILOSOPHY         515 

nize  as  necessary."  This  is  Hamilton's  law  of  the  conditioned. 
He  applies  this  law  to  the  principle  of  causality.  We  cannot 
conceive  of  an  absolute  commencement  of  existence  nor  of  an 
absolute  termination.  "  We  necessarily  deny  in  thought  that 
the  object  which  apparently  begins  to  be,  really  so  begins;  and 
we  necessarily  identify  its  present  with  its  past  existence. " 

We  are  compelled  to  believe  that  the  object  (that  is,  the  cer- 
tain quale  and  quantum  of  whose  phenomenal  rise  into  exist- 
ence we  have  witnessed)  did  really  exist  prior  to  this  rise  under 
other  forms.  But  to  say  that  a  thing  previously  existed  under 
other  forms  is  only  to  say,  in  other  words,  that  a  thing  had 
causes. ' '  We  are,  however,  also  unable  to  conceive  of  an  infinite 
non-commencement  or  of  an  infinite  non-termination.  Hence,  we 
cannot  regard  the  law  of  causality  as  possessing  absolute  cer- 
tainty; it  rests  on  mere  negative  inconceivability,  and  that,  as 
we  have  seen,  is  not  a  test  of  truth.  If  the  law  were  positively 
necessary,  free  will  would  be  impossible,  but  since  it  is  not  a 
positive  law,  free  will  is  possible.  Whether  the  will  is  free  or 
not,  therefore,  is  to  be  decided  by  the  evidence;  and  for  the 
fact  of  liberty  we  have  immediately  or  mediately  the  evidence 
of  consciousness. 

We  can  know  only  the  conditionally  limited ;  existence  is  not 
cognizable  absolutely  and  in  itself,  but  only  in  special  modes, 
related  to  our  faculties.  If  this  is  so,  we  cannot  know  the  ulti- 
mate being,  or  God,  for  the  ultimate  is  unconditioned.  The 
Unconditioned  is  either  absolute  (that  is,  completed,  perfected) 
or  infinite,  but  it  cannot  be  both,  for  Absolute  and  Infinite  are 
contradictory  opposites.  Since,  however,  God  must  be  either 
one  or  the  other,  and  since  we  cannot  decide  which  of  them  to 
apply  to  him,  a  rational  theology  is  impossible.  God  cannot  be 
known  a  priori.  Not  one  of  the  advocates  of  speculative  the- 
ology has  ever  been  able  to  prove  that  God  is  either  absolute 
or  infinite,  though  many  have  defined  him  as  both,  which  is 
contradictory.  Hamilton  did  not  hold  that  the  notion  of  an 
Unconditioned  is  self-contradictory,  nor  that  the  notion  of  the 
Absolute  or  of  the  Infinite  is  so.  It  is  possible  to  b» .  God, 

it  is  possible  to  believe  he  is  either  absolute  or  infinite,  it  is  not 
possible  to  believe  he  is  both :  but  in  no  case  can  we  prove  a  priori 
that  he  is  either. 


516  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Another  application  of  the  law  of  the  Unconditioned  is  the 
principle  of  substance  and  phenomenon.  All  our  knowledge  of 
mind  and  of  matter  is  relative,  conditioned;  we  are  conscious 
only  of  existence  as  conditioned.  I  am  compelled  by  a  necessity 
of  my  nature  to  think  of  the  phenomenon  as  the  known  phe- 
nomenon of  an  unknown  substance.  I  cannot  think  this  relative 
as  absolutely  relative, — this  phenomenon  as  a  phenomenon  and 
nothing  more.  I  can  suppose  it  to  be  the  phenomenon  of  some- 
thing that  does  not  appear;  I  conceive  it  as  the  accident  of  a 
subject  or  a  substance. 

Hamilton  betrays  the  influence  of  the  Scottish  common-sense 
school  in  his  doctrine  of  natural  realism:  we  have  a  direct  con- 
sciousness of  the  world  as  really  existing.  We  believe  that  it 
exists  because  we  know  it,  we  feel  it,  we  perceive  it,  as  existing. 
But  we  do  not  perceive  the  material  or  mental  substance  directly. 
We  perceive  directly  the  phenomena,  a  certain  series,  or  aggre- 
gate, or  complement,  of  appearances,  or  phenomena  manifested 
in  coexistence.  We  must  think  these  phenomena  or  qualities 
as  phenomena  of  something,  of  something  that  is  extended,  solid, 
figured,  and  so  on.  This  something  is  cognizable  or  conceivable 
only  in  its  qualities,  only  in  its  effects,  in  its  relative  or  phe- 
nomenal existence.  A  law  of  thought  compels  us  to  think  some- 
thing absolute  and  unknown  as  the  basis  or  condition  of  the  rela- 
tive and  known.  What  applies  to  matter  applies  to  mind.  Mind 
and  matter,  as  known  or  knowable,  are  only  two  different  series 
of  phenomena  or  qualities:  as  unknown  and  unknowable  they 
are  two  substances  in  which  these  different  qualities  are  supposed 
to  inhere.  We,  therefore,  directly  perceive  qualities,  attributes, 
phenomena,  and  not  substances. 

Veitch,  Hamilton;  Monck,  Hamilton;  Mill,  Examination  of  Sir 
William  Hamilton's  Philosophy;  also,  for  Hamilton  and  his  school,  see 
works  on  the  Scottish  philosophy  by  McCosh  and  Pringle-Pattison,  anc. 
on  English  philosophy  by  Forsyth  and  J.  Seth  (pp.  254,  f.) ;  Hoffding 
Englische  Philosophic,  German  transl.  by  Kurella;  Ueberweg-Heinze 
op.  cit.f  §  57.  Bibliography  in  Ueberweg-Heinze. 

68.    EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL 

Hume  had  drawn  what  seemed  to  him  the  ultimate  conse- 
quences of  the  presuppositions  of  empiricism.  If  our  knowledge 


EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL  517 

is  limited  to  impressions  and  their  faint  copies  or  ideas,  and  the 
self  is  a  mere  bundle  of  sensations,  we  have  no  universal  and 
necessary  knowledge :  the  notion  of  cause  is  reduced 
to  the  idea  of  temporal  succession;  and  the  con-  Empiricism 
sciousness  of  necessity  accompanying  it,  to  habit  or 
belief ;  it  is  illusory  to  assume  either  a  spiritual  sub- 
stance or  a  material  substance  as  the  cause  of  our  sensations. 
Hume's  reflections,  ending  as  they  did  in  partial  skepticism, 
agnosticism,  and  phenomenalism,  caused  a  violent  reaction  and 
led  to  the  development  of  the  common-sense  philosophy  of  the 
Scottish  school,  as  we  have  seen.  Owing  to  the  progress  of  the 
natural  sciences,  however,  and  the  rise  of  positivism  in  France, 
the  empirical  conception  again  came  to  occupy  the  leading  place 
in  British  thought  during  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
It  based  itself  on  the  doctrines  of  Hume  and  Hartley  and  reached 
its  highest  form  in  the  Logic  of  John  Stuart  Mill.  Though  this 
thinker  did  not  escape  the  influence  of  Auguste  Comte,  whom 
tie  greatly  admired,  he  had  as  his  intellectual  ancestors  the  lead- 
;rs  of  the  traditional  English  school,  among  them  his  own  father, 
James  Mill  (1773-1836),  and  Jeremy  Bentham  (1748-1832),  and 
had  taken  sides  before  the  appearance  of  Comte 's  writings. 
There  is,  indeed,  much  in  common  between  French  positivism 
and  latter-day  English  empiricism,  enough  to  have  induced  some 
historians  to  regard  the  latter  as  an  offshoot  of  the  Comtian 
movement.  The  same  attitude  of  mind  characterizes  both  views : 
they  both  emphasize  the  value  of  facts  and  of  scientific  method, 
and  are  both,  in  principle,  opposed  to  metaphysics;  both  aim 
at  social  reform  and  make  the  happiness  and  development  of 
humanity  jthe  etjiical  ideal.  The  positivists,  however,  turn  their 
attention  to  the  methods  and  results  of  the  special  sciences  and 
geek  a  classification  and  systematization  of  human  knowledge, 
while  the  Englishman,  following  the  traditions  of  his  school, 
makes  psychology  and  logic,  which  the  Frenchmen  neglect,  his 
starting-point  and  finds  in  these  the  solution  of  his  problems. 

John  Stuart  Mill  (1806-1873)  was  the  son  of  James  Mill,  a  secretary 
in  the  East  India  Company  and  a  writer  on  economic,  political,  socio- 
logical, and  philosophical  subjects.  The  elder  Mill  began  the  intellectual 
training  of  his  son  during  the  latter's  infancy,  and  gave  it  his  careful 
personal  attention.  He  introduced  him  to  the  study  of  the  philosophy 


518  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

of  the  eighteenth  century;  and  Hartley's  psychology  and  Bentham's 
ethics  made  a  great  impression  on  the  boy.  Hartley's  doctrine  of  the 
association  of  ideas  became, — as  it  had  been  to  his  father, — the  guiding 
principle  of  Mill's  psychology  and  kindred  studies,  while  Bentham's 
principle  of  utility,  as  he  himself  says,  gave  unity  to  his  conception  of 
things  and  a  definite  shape  to  his  aspirations.  In  1823,  after  a  few 
years  spent  in  travel  and  in  the  study  of  law,  Mill  entered  the  service 
of  the  East  India  Company,  with  which  he  remained  until  its  abolition 
by  Parliament  in  1858.  In  1865  he  was  elected  to  Parliament  as  a 
Liberal  and  served  for  three  years,  but  his  greatest  influence  on  the 
political  life  of  his  country  was  exercised  through  his  writings. 

Logic,  1843;  Principles  of  Political  Economy,  1848;  Liberty,  1859; 
Thoughts  on  Parliamentary  Reform,  1859;  Representative  Government, 
1860;  The  Subjection  of  Women,  1861;  Utilitarianism,  1861;  Augusts 
Comte  and  Positivism,  1865;  Examination  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's 
Philosophy,  1865;  edition  of  James  Mill's  Analysis  of  the  Human 
Mind,  1869;  Dissertations  and  Discussions,  1859-1874.  His  Autobiog- 
raphy and  Essays  on  Religion:  Nature,  The  Utility  of  Religion,  and 
Theism  were  published  after  his  death.  Correspondence  of  Mill  and 
Comte,  ed.  by  Levy-Bruhl;  correspondence  with  d'Eichthal;  Letters, 
ed.  by  Elliot,  2  vols.  New  ed.  of  works  in  New  Universal  Library. 

Monographs  on  Mill  by  Douglas,  Bain,  Fox  Bourne,  Sanger,  Lauret ; 
Douglas,  Ethics-  of  J.  S.  Mill;  Hoffding,  Englische  Philosophen; 
MacCunn,  Six  Radical  Thinkers;  Ribot,  Contemporary  English  Psychol- 
ogy, transl.  by  Baldwin ;  Guyau,  La  morale  anglaise  contemporaine. 
See  also  works  under  Comte,  p.  506,  and  English  philosophy,  pp.  254,  f. 

The  ideal  of  social  and  political  reform  gave  direction  to  Mill's 
intellectual  labors.  He  shared  the  eighteenth  ^century 's  enthusi- 
asm for  progress  and  enlightenment  and  with  it 
Science  and  believed  in  the  supreme  efficacy  of  education,  hold- 
Reform  *n£  that  tnere  is  no  natural  impulse  which  it  cannot 
transform  or  destroy,  and  that  human  character  will 
change  with  men's  ideas.  In  order  to  bring  about  reforms, 
knowledge  is  necessary,  knowledge  of  the  right  ends  and  knowl- 
edge of  the  means  of  realizing  them.  But  in  order  to  reach 
knowledge,  correct  methods  must  be  employed,  and  to  the  study 
of  these  Mill  addressed  himself  in  his  Logic.  The  wonderful 
progress  of  the  natural  sciences  suggested  an  examination  of 
scientific  methods  and  their  application  in  the  mental  or  moral 
sciences:  in  psychology,  ethics,  economics,  politics,  and  history 
The  investigation  of  methods  of  knowledge,  however,  could  not 
be  carried  on  successfully  without  a  consideration  of  the  gen- 
eral principles  of  the  theory  of  knowledge,  and  such  a  study 
we  have  in  the  Logic,  which  has  been  called  the  most  thorough- 


EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL  519 

going    exposition    of    the    epistemology    of    empiricism    ever 
written. 

Hume  had  taught  that  we  cannot  reach  universal  and  nec- 
essary knowledge :  we  do  not  experience  any  necessary  connec- 
tion among  things ;  the  necessity  of  judgments,  on         . 
which  intuitionists  lay  so  much  stress,  is  merely 
the  result  of  habit.    All  we  know  is  our  ideas,  which  follow  one 
another  in  a  certain  temporal  order,  according  to  the  laws  of 
association  by  similarity,   contiguity,   and  causality.     Hartley 
worked  out  this  theory  of  association,  reducing  Hume's  three 
laws  to  the  single  law  of  contiguity:  ideas  call  up  ideas  with 
which  they  have  been  associated  in  consciousness  before;  and 
sought  to  explain  all  mental  processes  as  cases  of  this  law.    On 
the  basis  of  this  theory,  knowledge  is  nothing  but  a  firm  and 
coherent   association   of  ideas,   and  the   so-called   necessity   of 
thought  nothing  but  an  expression  of  the  firmness  of  these  asso- 
ciations.    To  know,  therefore,  means  to  study  the  sequence  of 
our  ideas,  to  eliminate  the  accidental,  transitory  associations, 
and  to  discover  the  permanent,  enduring,  invariably  recurring 
ones,  the  correct  and  valid  sequences:  this  is  accomplished  by 
the  methods  of  induction,  which  Mill  describes  as  they  are  em- 
ployed by  modern  experimental  research.     Hence,  all  inference 
and  proof,  and  all  discovery  of  truths  not  self-evident,  consi? 
of    inductions   and   the   interpretation   of   inductions:   all 
knowledge   that  is  not  intuitive  comes  exclusively   from  this 
source. 

Mill's  entire  logical  theory  is  based  on  the  laws  of  association. 
The  child  infers  that  the  fire  will  burn  because  fire  and  the  burn 
came  together  before;  the  inference,  in  this  case,   j  duct-ve 
is  from  one  particular  to  another,  and  not  from   jj]^^ 
the  universal  to  the  particular,  or  from  the  par- 
ticular to  the  universal.    Here  we  have  the  elementary  form  o 
all  inference.    It  makes  no  difference  whether  I  infer  from  t 
fact  that  Peter  died  the  death  of  Paul  or  the  death  of  all  men 
in  the  latter  case  I  am  simply  extending  the  inference  to  an 
indefinite  number  of  particular  cases  instead  of  only  one. 
have  passed  from  the  known  to  the  unknown  in  i-ith.-r  case,  am 
the  same  process  of  inference  is  involved.    The  conclusion 
induction  embraces  more  than  is  contained  in  the  premises. 


, 


520  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

The  syllogistic  process  (All  men  are  mortal,  Paul  is  a  man, 
hence  he  is  mortal),  therefore,  is  not  a  process  of  inference, 
because  it  is  not  a  progress  from  the  known  to  the  unknown. 
In  every  syllogism,  considered  as  an  argument  to  prove  the  con- 
clusion, there  is  a  begging  of  the  question :  the  proposition,  Paul 
is  mortal,  is  already  presupposed  in  the  general  assumption,  All 
men  are  mortal.  The  major  premise  of  a  syllogism  does  not 
prove  the  conclusion.  The  inference  is  finished  when  we  have 
asserted  that  all  men  are  mortal;  the  major  premise  is  proved 
by  the  particular  instances:  it  is  a  concise  or  compressed  form 
of  expression  of  the  results  of  many  observations  and  inferences, 
and  of  instructions  for  making  innumerable  inferences  in  un- 
foreseen cases.  It  practically  tells  us  what  has  already  been 
found,  registers  what  has  been  inferred,  what  events,  or  facts, 
have  gone  together  and  were,  therefore,  inferred  to  belong 
together,  and  gives  directions  for  future  inductive  inferences. 

The  question  at  once  arises,  What  warrant  have  we  for  mak- 
ing such  inferences?  The  assumption  involved  in  every  case 
of  induction  is  that  what  happens  once,  will,  un- 
der a  sufficient  degree  of  similarity,  happen  again, 
and  not  only  again,  but  as  often  as  the  same  cir- 
cumstances recur.  And  what  warrant  have  we  for  this  assump- 
tion itself?  The  warrant  of  experience:  it  is  a  universal  fact 
that  the  universe,  so  far  as  known  to  us,  is  so  constituted  that 
whatever  is  true  in  any  one  case  is  true  in  all  cases  of  a  certain 
description.  This  principle  that  the  course  of  nature  is  uni- 
form, is  the  fundamental  principle  or  axiom  of  induction.  It 
is,  however,  itself  an  instance  of  induction,  one  of  the  latest 
inductions  to  attain  strict  philosophical  accuracy.  If  this  is  so, 
how  can  it  be  regarded  as  our  warrant  for  all  the  others  ?  Is  not 
Mill  here  reasoning  in  a  circle,  proving  the  particular  inductions 
by  the  law  of  the  uniformity  of  nature  and  then  proving  this 
law  by  these  inductions?  No,  says  Mill,  the  principle  of  the 
uniformity  of  the  course  of  nature  stands  in  the  same  relation 
to  all  inductions,  as  the  major  premise  of  a  syllogism  always 
stands  to  the  conclusion:  it  does  not  contribute  to  prove  it,  but 
is  a  necessary  condition  of  its  being  proved  (that  is,  the  con- 
clusion is  not  proved  unless  the  law  is  true).  The  real  proof 
that  what  is  true  of  John,  Peter,  and  others  is  true  of  all  man- 


EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL  521 

kind,  can  only  be,  that  a  different  supposition  would  be  incon- 
sistent with  the  uniformity  which  we  know  to  exist  in  the  course 
of  nature.  Mill  regards  the  law  as  an  abridgment  or  summation 
of  our  past  experiences:  it  simply  registers  what  has  been  ob- 
served. It  does  not  prove  the  particular  inductions,  but  merely 
increases  their  certainty.  But  though  we  may  acquit  Mill  of 
the  charge  of  circular  reasoning  here,  it  is  plain  that  he  fails 
to  find  a  logical  basis  for  his  theory  of  induction.  He  does  not 
accomplish  what  he  promises,  and  seems,  moreover,  to  be  uncon- 
scious of  the  skeptical  consequences  of  his  position. 

The  uniformity  in  question,  Mill  also  points  out,  is  not  prop- 
erly uniformity,  but  uniformities.  A  certain  fact  invariably 
occurs  whenever  certain  circumstances  are  present  and  does  not 
occur  when  they  are  absent;  the  like  is  true  of  another  fact; 
and  so  on.  Such  uniformities  as  exist  among  natural  phenomena 
are  called  laws  of  nature.  The  problem  of  inductive  logic  is  to 
ascertain  the  laws  of  nature  and  to  follow  them  into  their 
results.  The  purpose  is  to  ascertain  what  kinds  of  uniformities 
have  been  found  perfectly  invariable,  pervading  all  nature,  and 
what  are  those  which  have  been  found  to  vary  with  difference  of 
time,  place,  or  other  changeable  circumstances.  Some  uniformi- 
ties, as  far  as  any  human  purpose  requires  certainty,  may  be 
considered  quite  certain  and  quite  universal.  By  means  of  these 
uniformities  we  can  raise  multitudes  of  other  inductions  to  the 
same  point  in  the  scale.  For,  if  we  can  show  with  respect  to 
any  inductive  inference  that  either  it  must  be  true  or  one  of 
these  certain  and  universal  inductions  must  admit  of  an  excep- 
tion, the  former  generalization  will  attain  the  same  certainty 
and  indefeasibleness  within  the  bounds  assigned  to  it  which  are 
the  attributes  of  the  latter. 

We  have  uniformities  of  simultaneity  and  uniformities  of  suc- 
cession.   In  the  laws  of  number  and  those  of  space,  we  recognize, 
in  the  most  unqualified  manner,  the  rigorous  uni- 
versality  of  which  we  are  in  quest.    But  the  most 
valuable  to  us  of  all  truths  relating  to  phenomena 
are  those  which  relate  to  the  order  of  their  succession.    Of  these 
truths,  one  only  has  been  found  that  has  never  been,  in  any 
instance  whatever,  defeated  or  suspended  by  any  change  of 
cumstances.    This  is  the  law  of  causation,  which  is  universal  also 


522  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

in  the  sense  that  it  is  coextensive  with  the  entire  field  of  suc- 
cessive phenomena,  all  instances  whatever  of  succession  being 
examples  of  it.  The  truth  that  every  fact  which  has  a  begin- 
ning has  a  cause,  is  coextensive  with  human  experience. 

The  notion  of  cause  is  the  root  of  the  whole  theory  of  induc- 
tion, and  it  is,  therefore,  necessary  to  reach  a  clear  and  precise 
idea  of  it.  The  only  notion  of  a  cause  which  the  theory  of 
induction  requires,  is  such  a  notion  as  can  be  gained  from  experi- 
ence. The  law  of  causation  is  but  the  familiar  truth  that  invaria- 
bility of  succession  is  found  by  observation  to  obtain  between 
every  fact  in  nature  and  some  other  fact  which  has  preceded  it. 
To  certain  facts,  certain  facts  always  do,  and,  as  we  believe, 
will  continue  to  succeed.  We  do  not  mean  by  the  cause  a  mys- 
terious and  most  powerful  tie  between  things  or  some  essence 
that  actually  produces  something  else.  The  invariable  ante- 
cedent is  termed  the  cause ;  the  invariable  consequent,  the  effect. 
The  cause,  philosophically  speaking,  is  the  sum-total  of  the  con- 
ditions, positive  and  negative,  taken  together. 

The  objection  might  be  urged  against  this  definition  of  cause 
that  it  leaves  out  of  account  an  important  element,  the  idea  of 
necessity  or  necessary  connection.  If  the  invariable  antecedent 
is  the  cause,  then  night  must  be  the  cause  of  day,  and  day  the 
cause  of  night.  To  obviate  the  objection,  Mill  adds  that  cau- 
sality implies  not  only  that  the  antecedent  always  has  been  fol- 
lowed by  the  consequent,  but  that,  as  long  as  the  present  consti- 
tution of  things  endures,  it  always  will  be  so.  All  that  can  be 
meant  by  the  term  necessity  is  unconditionalness.  That  which 
is  necessary,  that  which  must  be,  means  that  which  will  be. 
Hence,  the  cause  of  a  phenomenon  is  the  antecedent,  or  the  con- 
currence of  antecedents,  on  which  it  is  invariably  and  uncondi- 
tionally consequent.  The  question,  How  do  we  know  that  a 
sequence  is  unconditional  ?  is  answered :  By  experience.  In  some 
cases  we  are  not  sure  that  a  hitherto  invariable  antecedent  i? 
the  invariable  antecedent.  But  there  are  certain  primeval  o:* 
permanent  causes  of  which,  or  some  combination  of  which,  all 
phenomena  are  the  effects,  and  these  would  be  unconditional. 
One  knowing  all  the  agents  which  exist  at  the  present  moment, 
their  collocation  in  space,  and  all  their  properties, — in  othe:' 
words,  the  laws  of  their  agency, — could  predict  the  whole  sub- 


EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL  523 

sequent  history  of  the  universe.  Anyone  acquainted  with  the 
original  distribution  of  all  natural  agents,  and  the  laws  of  their 
succession,  would  be  able  to  construct  a  priori  the  whole  series 
of  events  in  the  history  of  the  universe,  past  and  future. 

Mill's  assumption,  we  see,  is  that  inexorable  law  and  order 
reigns  in  the  universe,  that  there  are  invariable,  unconditional 
sequences,  and  that  these  can  be  ascertained  by  induction,  de- 
duction, and  verification,  which  constitute  the  scientific  method. 
This  doctrine,  if  consistently  carried  out  (which  it  is  not), 
would  lead  to  a  rationalistic  science  and  make  possible,  in  theory 
at  least,  an  absolute  body  of  knowledge.  It  does  not,  however, 
agree  with  his  theory  of  induction,  according  to  which  the  idea 
of  causation  can  be  nothing  but  a  belief  in  the  succession  of 
phenomena,  a  belief  that  rests  on  the  succession  of  ideas  in  con- 
sciousness. Mill  wavers  between  the  rationalistic  and  empiricist 
conceptions  of  causality:  the  view  that  causality  implies  neces- 
sary connection,  and  the  view  that  it  means  merely  invariable 
temporal  succession.  On  the  latter  hypothesis,  all  we  can  say 
is  that  the  belief  in  causation  increases  with  our  experiences 
of  succession.  And,  indeed,  this  is  the  view  generally  taken 
by  Mill  when  he  examines  our  right  to  assume  the  universality 
of  the  law  of  causation,  as  we  do  in  all  the  inductive  methods. 
We  cannot  justify  the  assumption,  he  tells  us,  by  the  disposi- 
tion of  the  human  mind  to  believe  it,  for  belief  is  not  proof, 
and,  besides,  not  one  of  the  so-called  instinctive  beliefs  is  in- 
evitable. Even  now,  many  philosophers  regard  volitions  as  an 
exception  to  the  law  of  causation.  His  position  on  this  question 
agrees  with  his  view  of  the  uniformity  of  nature.  Indeed,  the 
universality  of  the  causal  law  is  merely  a  case  of  the  uniformity 
of  sequences  in  nature.  We  arrive  at  the  universal  law  of  causa- 
tion by  generalizing  from  many  partial  uniformities  of  sequence. 
It  is  true  that  we  arrive  at  the  law  by  the  loose  and  uncertain 
method  of  induction  per  enumerationem  simplicem,  and  it  might 
seem,  at  first  sight,  that  such  a  principle  would  prove  a  weak 
and  precarious  basis  for  scientific  induction.  But  the  precari- 
ousness  of  the  method  is  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  the  largeness  of 
the  generalization,  and  the  law  of  causation  is  the  most  extensive, 
in  its  subject-matter,  of  all  generalizations  which  experience  war- 
rants, respecting  the  sequences  and  coexistences  of  phenomena. 


524  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

In  point  of  certainty,  it  stands  at  the  head  of  all  observed  uni- 
formities, and  it  adds  to  these  as  much  proof  as  it  receives  from 
them.  The  criticism  that  it  is  a  paradox  to  base  induction  on 
the  law  of  causation,  and  then  to  explain  this  itself  as  a  case 
of  induction,  is  answered  by  Mill  in  the  same  manner  in  which 
he  answers  a  similar  objection  against  the  uniformity  of  nature. 
When  we  have  ascertained  that  the  particular  conclusion  is  liable 
to  no  doubt  except  the  doubt  whether  every  event  has  a  cause, 
we  have  done  all  that  can  be  done  for  it.* 

In  matters  of  evidence,  we  neither  require  nor  can  attain 
the  absolute.  Whatever  has  been  found  true  in  innumerable  in- 
stances, and  never  found  to  be  false,  after  due  examination,  in 
any,  we  are  safe  in  acting  on  as  universal  provisionally,  until 
an  undoubted  exception  appears;  provided  that  the  nature  of 
the  case  is  such  that  an  exception  could  scarcely  have  escaped 
notice.  But  we  cannot  affirm  confidently  that  this  general  law 
prevails  beyond  the  possible  range  of  our  experience,  in  distant 
parts  of  the  stellar  region.  It  must  be  received  not  as  a  law  of 
the  universe,  but  of  that  portion  of  it  only  which  is  within 
the  range  of  our  means  of  sure  observation,  with  a  reasonable 
degree  of  extension  to  adjacent  cases. 

The  law  of  the  uniform  course  of  nature  and  the  law  of  uni- 
versal causation  are  both  the  results  of  experience.     They  are 
not  necessary  or  a  priori  truths ;  indeed,  there  are 

pwot  no  gucj1  truths.     Even  the  principles  of  logic  and 

the  generalizations  of  mathematics  are  generaliza- 
tions from  experience.  The  proposition  that  two  straight  lines 
cannot  inclose  a  space  is  an  induction  from  all  the  experiences, 
we  have  ever  made.  Besides,  mathematical  propositions  are  only 
approximately  true ;  we  cannot  conceive  a  line  without  breadth ; 
the  radii  of  a  perfect  circle  would  be  equal,  but  such  circles  do 
not  exist.  There  are  no  real  points,  lines,  circles  which  conform 
to  the  definitions  of  geometry;  they  are  idealized  copies  of  the 
points,  lines,  etc.,  which  we  experience, — abstractions,  mere  fie- 

*Mill  has,  however,  forgotten  his  assumption  of  causation  as  an  uncon- 
ditional sequence,  and  that  there  are  certain  primeval  and  permanent 
causes  in  nature,  which  determine  the  whole  series  of  events  in  the 
history  of  the  universe.  On  this  view,  the  particular  conclusion  could  be 
liable  to  no  doubt  whatever,  for  it  assumes  that  all  phenomena  are  the 
effects  of  these  primeval  and  permanent  causes  of  nature. 

V 


EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL  525 

ons.  Mathematical  propositions,  therefore,  have  only  hypo- 
hetical  validity.  The  argument  that  propositions,  the  opposite 
f  which  is  inconceivable,  cannot  be  derived  from  experience, 
,  also  unavailing.  The  inconceivableness  of  a  thing  proves  noth- 
_ig  against  the  experimental  origin  of  our  conviction  with  re- 
pect  to  it.  The  results  of  the  so-called  deductive  sciences  are 
ecessary  in  the  sense  of  necessarily  following  from  first  prin- 
iples  called  axioms  and  definitions;  that  is,  of  being  certainly 
rue  if  these  axioms  and  definitions  are  true.  These  latter  are 
xperimental  truths  which  rest  on  superabundant  and  obvious 
ividence,  while  the  axioms  are  but  the  most  universal  class  of 
nductions  from  experience,  the  simplest  and  easiest  cases  of 
generalization  furnished  to  us  by  our  senses  and  by  our  internal 
jonsciousness.  The  demonstrative  sciences  are  all  without  ex- 
jeption  inductive  sciences,  their  evidence  is  that  of  experience, 
mt  they  are  also  hypothetical  sciences  because  their  conclusions 
^ire  only  true  on  certain  suppositions,  which  are,  or  ought  to 
)e,  approximations  to  truth,  but  are  seldom  if  ever  exactly  true. 

With  critical  idealism,  Mill  holds  that  we  can  know  phenomena 
mly  and  not  things-in-themselves.    On  the  inmost  nature  of  the 
thinking  principle,  as  well  as  on  the  inmost  nature 
of  matter,  we  are  and,  with  our  faculties,  must  ^JJ^ 
always  remain  in  the  dark.     As  bodies  manifest   gelf 
themselves  to  me  only  through  the  sensations  of 
which  I  regard  them  as  the  causes,  so  the  thinking  principle, 
or  mind,  in  my  own  nature  makes  itself  known  to  me  only  by 
the  feelings  of  which  it  is  conscious.     But  if  all  we  know  i 
sensations,  the  effects  of  an  unknown  external  cause,  how  do  we 
eome  to  believe  in  things  independent  of  ust    Mill  gives  a  psj 
chological  explanation  of  our  belief,  based  on  memory,  expect 
tion,  and  the  laws  of  association.    I  see  a  piece  of  white  papei 
on  the  table,  I  shut  my  eyes  or  go  into  another  room ;  I  no  long 
see  the  paper,  but  I  remember  it  and  expect  or 
see  it  again,  under  the  same  circumstances,  if  tin-  same  cone 
tions  exist.     I  form  the  notion  of  something  permanent,  i 
during;  the  so-called  external  thing  is  simply  the  possib 
certain  sensations  will  recur  in  the  same  order  in  win 
have  occurred.    My  past  sensations  are  permanent  p« 
of  sensation;— there  is  always  the  possibility  of  their  return 


526  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

ing, — the  external  world  is  a  permanent  possibility  of  sensation. 
We  come  to  believe  that  the  permanent  possibilities  are  the  true 
realities,  and  the  passing  sensations  merely  the  accidents  or  rep- 
resentations of  the  possibilities.  The  belief,  then,  in  external! 
objects  is  the  belief  that  sensations  may  recur.  This  belief  is 
not  an  original  belief,  not  an  innate  notion,  but  the  result  of 
our  experience,  an  acquired  belief,  the  result  of  the  association 
of  ideas.  Mill  is  not  here  trying  to  prove  that  objects  are 
external  to  us;  he  is  simply  trying  to  account  for  the  fact  that, 
although  we  experience  nothing  but  a  succession  of  ideas,  we 
are  yet  able  to  form  the  picture  of  a  persisting  world  of  objects 
outside  of  consciousness. 

We  find  also,  however,  the  thing-in-itself  in  Mill's  philosophy, 
the  notion  of  an  unknown  something  or  external  cause,  to  which 
we  refer  our  sensations.  In  spite  of  his  idealism,  Mill  cannot 
let  go  of  the  transcendent  substance,  or  cause  of  sensations.  The 
world  of  knowledge  is  a  phenomenal  world,  but  there  is,  besides, 
a  noumenal  world,  an  unknown  and  unknowable  world  of  things- 
in-themselves.  We  have  a  problem  here  which  Mill  does  not 
consider:  the  problem  of  the  possibility  of  such  a  world  and  of 
our  notion  of  it,  on  his  own  premises.  He  speaks  of  the  thing, 
in-itself  as  substance  and  cause,  without  even  inquiring  into  the 
possibility  of  such  a  view  on  his  definition  of  substance  and  cause. 
If  by  substance  we  mean  a  complexus  of  sensations,  and  by  cause 
the  invariable  phenomenal  antecedent,  how  can  we  speak  of 
something  outside  of  the  sensation-series  as  substance  and 
cause  ? 

Mill 's  conception  of  mind,  or  the  ego,  is  somewhat  vacillating. 
With  Hume  and  James  Mill,  he  calls  mind  a  series  of  feelings. 
He  tries  to  explain  our  belief  in  the  constancy  or  permanency 
of  the  self  as  he  explained  our  belief  in  an  external  world:  It 
is  the  belief  in  a  permanent  possibility  of  feelings,  and  this 
belief  accompanies  our  actual  feelings.  But  he  sees  difficulties 
in  the  associationistic  conception  of  mind  as  a  mere  succession 
of  feelings  and  is  frank  enough  to  confess  them.  "  If,  therefore, 
we  speak  of  mind  as  a  series  of  feelings,"  he  says,  "we  are 
obliged  to  complete  the  statement  by  calling  it  a  series  of  fee  - 
ings  which  is  aware  of  itself  as  past  and  future;  and  we  are 
reduced  to  the  alternative  of  believing  that  the  mind,  or  ego. 


EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL  527 

is  something  different  from  any  series  of  feelings,  or  possibili- 
ties of  them,  or  of  accepting  the  paradox  that  something  which 
ex  hypothesi  is  but  a  series  of  feelings,  can  be  aware  of  itself 
as  a  series.  ...  I  think  by  far  the  wisest  thing  we  can  do  is 
to  accept  the  inexplicable  fact,  without  any  theory  of  how  it  takes 
place;  and  when  we  are  obliged  to  speak  of  it  in  terms  which 
assume  a  theory,  to  use  them  with  a  reservation  as  to  their 
meaning."  * 

As  was  pointed  out  before,  Mill  was  deeply  interested  in  the 
reform  of  society  and  the  happiness  of  man.    He  believed  that 
the  progress  of  knowledge  in  the  social  and  po- 
litical fields  would  be  attended  by  results  equal  JJcntal  and 
to  those  of  the  natural  sciences.     But  in  order   g^cgg 
to  attain  such  knowledge,  he  held  it  to  be  necessary 
to  apply  the  methods  which  had  been  so  successfully  employed 
in   physics,    anatomy,    and   physiology.     What   is  needed,   he 
insists,  is  a  reform  of  the  mental  and  moral  sciences. 

The  scientific  treatment  of  human  nature,  however,  presup- 
poses that  there  is  order,  uniformity,  law,  invariable  sequence 
in  the  mental  realm;  and  the  question  at  once  arises:  Can 
there  be  science  here;  are  human  actions  subject  to  law!  The 
objection  is  raised  that  man  is  not  subject  to  law,  not 
determined,  but  free.  Mill  finds,  with  Hume,  that  the  chief 
objection  to  the  necessitarian  doctrine  rests  on  a  misappre- 
hension. Determinism,  properly  understood,  means  invariable, 
certain,  and  unconditional  sequence,  and  not  compulsion  or 
restraint,  not  that  one  phenomenon  compels  another,  that 
a  given  motive  compels  a  certain  effect.  It  means:  < 
motives,  character,  and  circumstances,  we  can  predict  conduct. 
The  act  does  not  necessarily  follow  on  a  certain  condil 
other  conditions  may  supervene  to  bring  about  a  different 
result.  Necessity  means  that  a  given  cause  will  be  followed 
the  effect  subject  to  all  possibilities  of  counteraction  by  otlu-r 
causes;  not  that  the  cause  is  irresistible.  The  fatalistic  error 
is  that  my  character  is  molded  for  me,  not  by  me,  wher 


due   to  •""«' 


•Many   inconsistencies   in   Mill's   thought  »'*  due   to  JJ  ./•  , 

herence  to  the  English  association-psycholo^,  *h,rh  he  inherited  « 
Sr    and  to  his8  tacit  acceptance,  or  at  least  appreciation,  of  many  « 
the  doctrines  of  the  rationalistic  thinkers  of  his  tune. 


528  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  desire  to  mold  my  character  is  a  cause.  I  can  change 
my  character  if  I  will;  I  can  resist  my  habits  and  tempta- 
tions if  I  wish.  The  sense  of  moral  freedom  consists  in  the 
consciousness  that  I  can  if  I  wish.  Another  misapprehension  is 
that  the  motive  of  my  action  is  always  the  anticipation  of  pleas- 
ure or  pain.  According  to  the  law  of  association,  pleasure  or 
pain  as  a  motive  drops  out,  and  I  form  a  habit  of  desiring  or 
willing  without  being  moved  by  the  thought  of  pleasure  or  pain. 
Wherever,  then,  facts  follow  each  other  according  to  law,  we 
can  have  science.  These  laws,  however,  may  not  have  been  dis- 
covered, and,  indeed,  may  not  be  discoverable  by  our  existing 
resources.  We  cannot  predict  in  the  science  of  human  nature 
because  we  do  not  know  all  the  circumstances  and  because  we 
do  not  know  the  characters  of  the  individuals.  Yet,  many  of 
the  effects  are  determined  by  general  causes;  they  depend  on 
circumstances  and  qualities  common  to  all  mankind.  With  re- 
gard to  these,  we  can  make  predictions  which  will  almost  always 
be  verified,  and  we  can  formulate  general  propositions  which  are 
almost  always  true.  Such  approximate  generalizations  must  be 
connected  deductively  with  the  laws  of  nature  from  which  they 
result;  we  must  show  that  they  are  corollaries  from  the  uni- 
versal laws  of  nature.  In  other  words,  we  need  a  deductive 
science  of  human  nature.  We  do  not  ask,  however,  what  is  the 
nature  of  mind,  but  what  are  the  laws  of  its  various  thoughts, 
emotions,  volitions,  and  sensations.  Moreover,  psychology  is 
not  physiology;  its  subject-matter  is  not  nerve-excitations  but 
mental  events.  The  simple  and  elementary  laws  of  mind  are 
found  by  the  ordinary  methods  of  experimental  inquiry.  Among 
such  laws  are  the  law  of  reproduction  (memory)  and  the  laws 
of  the  association  of  ideas:  these  compose  the  abstract  or  uni- 
versal portion  of  the  philosophy  of  human  nature.  .  All  the 
maxims  of  common  experience  (e.g.,  old  men  for  counsel,  young 
men  for  war)  are  the  results  or  consequences  of  these  laws. 
We  have  no  assurance,  however,  in  the  case  of  such  empirical 
laws,  that  they  will  hold  true  beyond  the  limits  of  our  observa- 
tion, because  the  consequent  (wisdom,  for  example)  is  not 
really  the  effect  of  the  antecedent  (old  age),  and  because  there 
is  ground  for  believing  that  the  sequence  is  resolvable  into  sim- 
pler sequences.  The  real  scientific  truths  are  the  causal  laws 


EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL  529 

;vhich  explain  these  empirical  maxims;  the  latter  verify  the 
theory.  Empirical  laws  are  never  exactly  true  except  in  the 
simplest  sciences,  e.g.,  in  astronomy,  where  the  causes,  or  forces, 
ire  few  in  number:  few  causes,  great  regularity. 

Psychology  ascertains  the  simple  laws  of  mind  in  general; 
t  is  a  science  of  observation  and  experiment.  Ethology,  or  the 
science  of  the  formation  of  character,  traces  the 
>peration  of  these  simple  laws  in  complex  combi- 
lations  of  circumstances  and  is  altogether  deductive.  The  lat- 
er science  is  one  still  to  be  created;  its  great  problem  is  to 
leduce  the  requisite  middle  principles  from  the  simple  or  gen- 
eral laws  of  psychology;  to  determine  from  the  general  laws 
if  mind,  combined  with  the  general  position  of  our  species  in 
he  universe,  what  actual  or  possible  combinations  of  circum- 
tances  are  capable  of  promoting  or  of  preventing  the  production 
>f  those  qualities  of  human  nature  (or  characters)  which  are 
nteresting  to  us.  Such  a  science  will  be  the  foundation  of  a 
;orresponding  art,  of  the  art  of  education.  To  be  sure,  verifi- 
ation  a  posteriori  must  go  hand  in  hand  with  deduction  a  priori. 
["he  conclusions  of  theory  cannot  be  trusted  unless  confirmed 
>y  observation;  nor  those  of  observation,  unless  they  can  be 
ffiliated  to  theory,  by  deducing  them  from  the  laws  of  human 
lature  and  from  a  close  analysis  of  the  circumstances  of  the 
^articular  situation. 

Next,  after  the  science  of  individual  man,  comes  the  science 
of  man  in  society, — of  the  actions  of  collective  masses  of  man- 
kind and  of  the  various  phenomena  which  consti- 
tute social  life.  Can  we  make  the  study  of  politics 
and  of  the  phenomena  of  society  scientific?  All 
phenomena  of  society  are  phenomena  of  human  nature,  generated 
by  outward  circumstances  upon  masses  of  human  beings;  hence 
the  phenomena  of  society,  too,  must  conform  to  fixed  laws.  Pre- 
diction is  impossible  here  because  the  data  are  innumerable  and 
perpetually  changing,  and  the  multitude  of  causes  is  so  great 
as  to  defy  our  limited  powers  of  calculation.  There  are  two 
erroneous  methods  of  philosophizing  on  society  and  government, 
the  experimental  or  chemical  mode  of  investigation  and  the 
abstract  or  geometrical  mode.  The  true  method  proceeds  de- 
ductively indeed,  but  by  deduction  from  many,  not  from  one 


530  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

or  a  very  few,  original  premises  (as  in  geometry)  ;  it  considers 
each  effect  as  (what  it  really  is)  an  aggregate  result  of  many 
causes,  operating  sometimes  through  the  same,  sometimes  through 
different  mental  agencies  or  laws  of  human  nature.  The  social 
science  is  a  deductive  science,  not  after  the  model  of  geometry, 
but  after  that  of  the  more  complex  physical  sciences.  It  is 
difficult,  to  be  sure,  to  calculate  the  result  of  the  conflicting  tend- 
encies which  are  acting  in  a  thousand  different  directions  and 
promoting  a  thousand  different  changes  at  a  given  instant  in 
a  given  society.  But  our  remedy  here  consists  in  verification: 
the  process  of  comparing  our  conclusions  either  with  the  con- 
crete phenomena  themselves  or,  when  such  are  obtainable,  with 
their  empirical  laws. 

Sociology,  however,  as  a  system  of  deductions  a  priori,  can- 
not be  a  science  of  positive  predictions,  but  only  of  tendencies. 
All  its  general  propositions  are,  therefore,  hypothetical:  they 
are  grounded  on  some  suppositious  set  of  circumstances  and 
declare  how  some  given  cause  would  operate  in  those  circum- 
stances, supposing  that  no  others  were  combined  with  them. 
Mill  also  points  out  that  different  species  of  social  facts,  being, 
in  the  main,  dependent  on  different  kinds  of  causes,  e.g.,  the 
desire  of  wealth,  must  be  studied  apart,  which  gives  us  distinct 
and  separate,  though  not  independent,  branches  or  departments 
of  sociological  speculation.  Political  economy,  for  example,  pro- 
ceeds to  inquire  into  the  laws  which  govern  various  operations, 
under  the  supposition  that  man  is  occupied  solely  in  acquiring 
and  consuming  wealth.  What  are  the  actions  which  would  be 
produced  by  the  desire  of  wealth  if  it  were  unimpeded  by  others  ? 
The  conclusions,  however,  of  each  separate  science  must  after- 
ward be  corrected  for  practice,  by  the  modifications  supplied  by 
the  other  separate  sciences. 

But  there  can  be  no  separate  science  of  government,  because 
that  is  the  fact  which  is  mixed  up,  both  as  cause  and  effect, 
with  the  qualities  of  the  particular  people  or  of  the  particular 
age.  It  must  be  a  part  of  the  general  science  of  society.  In  this 
general  science  of  society,  nothing  of  a  really  scientific  char 
acter  is  possible  except  by  the  inverse  deductive  method.  Thai 
is,  it  asks  not  what  will  be  the  effect  of  a  given  cause  in  a  certain 
state  of  society,  but  what  are  the  causes  which  produce,  and 


EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL  531 

:he  phenomena  which  characterize,  states  of  society  generally. 
The  fundamental  problem  is  to  find  the  laws  according  to  which 
my  state  of  society  produces  the  state  which  succeeds  it  and 
akes  its  place.  This  opens  up  the  question  of  the  progressive- 
less  of  man  and  society.  There  is  a  progressive  change  both 
n  the  character  of  the  human  race  and  in  their  outward  cir- 
umstances.  History,  when  judiciously  examined,  affords  em- 
pirical laws  of  society.  Sociology  must  ascertain  these  and  con- 
lect  them  with  the  laws  of  human  nature,  by  deductions  show- 
ng  that  such  were  the  derivative  laws  naturally  to  be  expected 
is  the  consequences  of  those  ultimate  ones.  The  only  check  or 
;orrective  on  the  empirical  laws  is  constant  verification  by  psy- 
hological  and  ethological  laws.  The  empirical  laws  are  uni- 
'ormities  of  coexistence  and  uniformities  of  succession,  and  we 
lave,  in  consequence,  social  statics  and  social  dynamics.  Social 
dynamics  is  the  study  of  society  considered  in  a  state  of  pro- 
gressive movement;  social  statics  is  the  study  of  the  consensus, 
that  is,  of  the  mutual  actions  and  reactions  of  contemporary 
social  phenomena,  the  study  of  the  existing  order.  One  of  the 
main  results  of  the  science  of  social  statics  would  be  to  ascer- 
tain the  requisites  of  stable  political  union,  among  which  Mill 
mentions:  a  system  of  education,  the  feeling  of  allegiance  or 
loyalty,  and  sympathy. 

It  is  necessary  to  combine  the  statical  view  of  social  phe- 
nomena with  the  dynamical,  considering  not  only  the  progres- 
sive changes  of  the  different  elements,  but  the  contemporaneous 
condition  of  each ;  and  thus  obtain,  empirically,  the  law  of  corre- 
spondence, not  only  between  the  simultaneous  states,  but  between 
the  simultaneous  changes,  of  those  elements.  This  law  of  corre- 
spondence it  is  which,  duly  verified  a  priori,  would  become 
the  real  scientific  derivative  law  of  the  development  of  hu- 
manity and  human  affairs.  The  evidence  of  history  and  that 
of  human  nature  show  that  the  state  of  the  speculative  facu! 
of  mankind,  including  the  nature  of  the  beliefs  which  by 
means  they  have  arrived  at,  concerning  themselves  and  the  world 
by  which  they  are  surrounded,  is  predominant  among  the  agents 
of  social  progress.  The  influence  of  speculation  is  the  main 
determining  cause  of  the  social  progress;  all  the  other  disposi- 
tions  of  our  nature  which  contribute  to  that  progress  being 


532  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

dependent  on  it  for  the  means  of  accomplishing  their  share  o: 
the  work.  The  order  of  human  progression  in  all  respects  wili 
mainly  depend  on  the  order  of  progression  in  the  intellectua 
convictions  of  mankind,  that  is,  on  the  law  of  the  successive 
transformations  of  human  opinions.*  But  can  this  law  be  de 
termined,  at  first  from  history  as  an  empirical  law,  then  con 
verted  into  a  scientific  theorem  by  deducing  it  a  priori  frorr 
the  principles  of  human  nature?  To  do  this,  it  is  necessary  tc 
take  into  consideration  the  whole  of  past  time,  to  the  memorable 
phenomena  of  the  last  and  present  generations.  It  has  become 
the  aim  of  really  scientific  thinkers  to  connect  by  theories  the 
facts  of  universal  history. 

In  his  ethical  theories  Mill  largely  follows  the  traditional 
English  hedonistic  school,  the  most  important  representatives 
of  which  are  Locke,  Hutcheson,  Hume,  and  J, 
Bentham  (1748-1832).  The  reading  of  Dumont's 
Traite  de  legislation,  an  exposition  of  Bentham 's  principal 
speculations,  Mill  regarded  as  an  epoch  in  his  life,  one  of  the 
turning-points  in  his  intellectual  history.  In  his  Utilitarianism, 
he  agrees  with  Bentham  that  happiness,  or  the  greatest  good 
of  the  greatest  number,  is  the  summum  bonum  and  the  cri- 
terion of  morality.  He  differs  from  his  master,  however,  on 
several  important  points.  According  to  Bentham,  the  value  oi 
pleasures  is  to  be  measured  by  their  intensity,  duration,  cer- 
tainty or  uncertainty,  propinquity  or  remoteness,  fecundity, 
purity,  and  extent  (the  number  of  persons  affected  by  them). 
No  difference  is  to  be  made  in  quality ;  other  things  being  equal, 
"  push-pin  is  as  good  as  poetry."  Mill  teaches  that  pleasures  also 
differ  in  quality,  that  those/which  go  with  the  exercise  of  intel- 
lectual" capacities  are  higher,  better,  than  sensuous  pleasures, 
and  that  persons  who  have  experienced  both  prefer  the  higher 
ones.  No  intelligent  person  would  consent  to  be  a  fool ;  no 
instructed  person  would  be  an  ignoramus;  no  person  of  feelirg 
or  conscience  would  consent  to  be  selfish  or  base.  You  wou'd 
not  exchange  your  lot  for  that  of  a  fool,  dunce,  or  rascal,  even 
if  you  were  convinced  that  a  fool,  dunce,  or  rascal  is  better 
satisfied  with  his  lot  than  you  with  yours.  It  is  better  to  be  a 

*  Thomas  H.  Buckle  (1821-1862)  attempts  to  show  that  progress  depends 
solely  on  intelligence  in  his  History  of  Civilization  in  England,  1857-1861. 


EMPIRICISM  OF  JOHN  STUART  MILL  533 

mman  being  dissatisfied  than  a  pig  satisfied;  it  is  better  to  be 
,  Socrates  dissatisfied  than  a  fool  satisfied.    The  fool  and  the  pig 
nay  think  otherwise,  but  that  is  because  they  know  only  one  side 
)f  the  question,  the  fool's  and  the  pig's.     Bentham  and  Mill 
Jso  agree  that  we  ought  to  strive  for  the  greatest  happiness 
f  the  greatest  number ;  but  Bentham  justifies  this  on  the  ground 
f  self-interest,  while  Mill  bases  it  on  the  filial  fppliflgff  nf  mon- 
ind,  the  desire  to  be  in  unity  with  our  fellow-creatures.     Aa 
•etween  the  agent's  own  happiness  and  that  of  others,  he  tells 
is,  Utilitarianism  requires  him  to  be  as  strictly  impartial  as  a 
lisinterested  and  benevolent  spectator.    "  In  the  golden  rule  of 
esus  of  Nazareth,  we  re.adJLhe  complete  spirit  of  the  ethics 
f  utility.     To  do  as  one  would  be  done  by,  and  to  lo\ 
leighbor  as  oneself,  constitute  the  ideal  perfection  of  utilitarian 
norality."     Indeed,  the  greatest  happiness  principle  is  a  mere 
brm  of  words  without  rational  signification,  unless  one  per- 
on's  happiness,   supposed  equal  in  degree    (with  the  proper 
illowance  made  for  kind),  is  counted  for  exactly  as  much  as 
nother  's ;  Bentham 's  dictum,  ' '  Everybody  to  count  for  one,  no- 
ody  for  more  than  one,"  might  be  written  under  the  principle 
f  utility  as  an  explanatory  commentary. 
Mill 's  Utilitarianism,  like  many  other  of  his  theories,  vacillates 
etween  opposing  views ;  in  addition  to  the  empirical  association- 
>sychology  with  its  hedonism,  egoism,  and  determinism,  we  find 
anings  towards  intuitionism,  perfectionism,  altruism,  and  free 
will.     The  very  inconsistency  of  the  theory,  however,  made  it 
ttractive  to  many  minds,  and  there  is  much  in  it  with  which 
he  opposing  schools  may  agree.    As  Green  pointed  out,  it  had 
reat  practical  value;  it  substituted  a  critical  and  intelligent 
or  a  blind  and  unquestioning  conformity.     The  theory  of  the 
greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number  has  tended  to  improve 
human  conduct  and  character ;  it  has  helped  men  to  fill  up  their 
ideals  in  a  manner  beneficial  to  a  wider  range  of  persons.    And 
it  has  done  this,  we  may  add,  not  because  of  its  hedonistic  ele- 
ments, but  because  of  the  emphasis  which  it  placed  on  universal- 
ism  ;  for,  after  all,  what  the  Utilitarians  were  aiming  at  was  the 
realization  of  a  better  social  life,  in  which  each  man  should  count 
for  one  and  no  one  for  more  than  one.    Mill,  particularly,  became 
the  philosophical  spokesman  of  liberalism  in  England,  and  fought 


534  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

the  intellectual  battles  of  democracy.  In  his  works  on  Liberty 
and  the  Subjection  of  Women  he  insisted  on  the  fullest  possible 
individual  rights  because  he  regarded  social  well-being  as  in- 
evitably bound  up  with  individual  well-being.  He  pointed  out 
"  the  importance,  to  man  and  society,  of  a  large  variety  in 
types  of  character,  and  of  giving  full  freedom  to  human  nature 
to  expand  itself  in  innumerable  and  conflicting  directions,"  and 
he  regarded  the  repression  of  women  as  a  greater  loss  to~  the 
community  than  to  women  themselves.  In  the  first  edition  of 
his  Political  Economy  (1848),  he  favored  economic  individual- 
ism, but  in  time  his  "  ideal  of  ultimate  improvement  went  far 
beyond  Democracy  "  and  brought  him  close  to  Socialism. 
"  While  we  repudiated  with  the  greatest  energy,"  he  tells  us 
in  his  Autobiography,  il  that  tyranny  of  society  over  the  indi- 
vidual which  jnost  Socialistic  systems  are  supposed  to  involve, 
we  yet  looked  forward  to  a  time  when  society  will  no  longer 
be  divided  into  the  idle  and  the  industrious ;  when  the  rule  that 
they  who  do  not  work  shall  not  eat,  will  be  applied  not  to  paupers 
only,  but  impartially  to  all;  when  the  division  of  the  produce 
of  labor,  instead  of  depending,  as  in  so  great  a  degree  it  now 
does,  on  the  accident  of  birth,  will  be  made  by  concert,  on  an 
acknowledged  principle  of  justice;  and  when  it  will  no  longer 
either  be,  or  be  thought  to  be,  impossible  for  human  beings  to 
exert  themselves  strenuously  in  procuring  benefits  which  are 
not  to  be  exclusively  their  own,  but  to  be  shared  with  the 
society  they  belong  to.  The  social  ,,.piuible«i^af-JJie_. Juture,  we 
considered  to  be,  how  to  unite  the  greatest  individual  liberty 
of  action,  with  a  common  ownership  in  the  raw  material  of  the 
globe,  and  an  equal  participation  of  all  in  the  benefits  of  com- 
bined labor."  He  had  an  abiding  faith  in  the  possibilities  of: 
human  nature ;  ' '  education,  habit,  and  the  cultivation  of  tho 
sentiments,  will  make  a  common  man  dig  or  weave  for  his  coun- 
try, as  readily  as  fight  for  his  country." 


Among  those  teaching  Utilitarianism  is  Henry  Sidgwick  (1838-1900 ; 
Methods  of  Ethics,  6th  ed.,  1901,  History  of  Ethics,  5th  ed.,  1902, 
Elements  of  Politics,  2d  ed.,  1897),  whose  work  on  ethics  also  show: 
the  influence  of  Butler  and  Kant.  He  abandons  the  psychologica 
hedonism  of  Mill,  but  accepts  ethical  hedonism, — the  view  tha 
universal  happiness  is  the  highest  good  or  ultimate  standard  o] 
right  and  wrong.  There  are  self-evident  practical  principles  whicl 


EVOLUTIONISM  OF  HERBERT  SPENCER          535 

erve  as  guides  in  reaching  the  goal:  rational  self-love  or  prudence, 
he  duty  of  benevolence,  and  justice.     (For  the  hedonistic  school  see 

'hilly,  Introduction  to  Ethics,  chaps,  vi,  viii.) 

69.    EVOLUTIONISM  OP  HERBERT  SPENCER 

Spencer's  ideal  of  knowledge  is  that  of  a  completely  unified 
ystem  of  thought.     The  knowledge  of  the  ordinary  man  is  un- 
inified,    disconnected,    inconsistent;    the    various 
arts   do   not   hang   together.      Science   furnishes    *f*eal  °* 
s  with  partially-unified  knowledge.     Philosophy, 
owever,  is  completely-unified  knowledge,  an  organic  system: 
:s  problem  is  to  discover  the  highest  truths  from  which  the 
rinciples  of  mechanics,  physics,  biology,  sociology,  and  ethics 
an  be  deduced.    All  these  propositions  must  be  in  harmony  with 
ne  another.     In  the  First  Principles,  which  forms  the  basis 
f  the  entire  system,  the  fundamental  axioms  are  set  forth, 
which  are  afterward  applied  in  the  Principles  of  Biology,  Prin- 
ciples of  Psychology,  Principles  of  Sociology,  and  Principles 
of  Ethics.    In  the  last-named  book  we  have  the  restatement  of  all 
the  generalizations  reached  in  the  preliminary  works :  so  that  the 
truths  of  ethics  are  grounded  on  the  results  of  all  the  other 
fields  of  knowledge.    These  generalizations  of  the  sciences  may 
be  empirically  ascertained,  but  they  can  also  be  derived  from 
first  principles. 

Spencer  calls  his  philosophy  synthetic  philosophy,  and  would 
agree  with  Wundt  that  it  is  the  function  of  such  a  universal 
science  to  combine  into  a  consistent  system  the  universal  truths 
arrived  at  by  the  particular  sciences.  In  this  respect,  he  dif- 
fers from  Hamilton  and  Mill.  Hamilton  offered  no  system  of 
philosophy  at  all  and  regarded  it  beyond  human  capacity  to 
offer  one,  the  Absolute  being  unknowable.  Mill  criticised  Comte 
for  his  relapse  into  philosophy  in  attempting  to  unify  the 
sciences.  It  is  true,  Mill,  too,  has  the  ideal  of  a  system  of  truths 
held  together  by  universal  principles  in  his  logic  of  the  moral 
sciences,  and  also  suggests  the  possibility  of  an  a  priori  science 
of  nature,  but  he  himself  made  no  effort  to  systematize  his 
thoughts;  indeed  it  was  impossible,  from  his  general  standpoint, 
to  reach  a  universal  synthesis,  as  his  predecessor  Hume  clearly 
saw.  Spencer  also  differs  from  the  empiricists  in  his  attempt 


536  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

to  base  knowledge  on  what  Kant  called  a  priori  forms  of  the 
mind,  and  to  reduce  these  functions  to  simple  principles.  In 
this  respect,  he  is  influenced  by  the  critical  philosophy,  with 
which  he  became  acquainted  largely  through  Hamilton's  works. 
All  our  knowledge,  he  holds,  rests  on  the  primary  act  of  thought ; 
even  the  skeptic  who  seeks  to  deny  the  possibility  of  knowledge 
presupposes  the  basal  functions  of  thinking.  Knowledge  would 
be  impossible  if  it  were  not  for  the  mind's  capacity  to  discover 
likeness  and  difference  as  well  as  for  its  demand  for  logical  con- 
sistency. None  of  these  functions  is  the  result  of  individual 
experience.  Applying  the  evolutionary  hypothesis,  Spencer  at- 
tempts to  explain  them  as  products  of  racial  experience,  thus 
seeking  a  compromise  between  intuitionism  and  empiricism  from 
the  side  of  empiricism.  Absolute  uniformities  of  experience  gen- 
erate absolute  uniformities  of  thought.  External  uniformities 
are  repeated  for  millions  of  generations,  giving  rise  to  fixed  asso- 
ciations of  ideas  and  necessary  forms  of  thought.  How  it  is  pos- 
sible for  such  connections  to  be  made  at  the  dawn  of  knowledge 
as  are  now  not  possible  without  an  a  priori  synthetic  mind, 
Spencer  does  not  tell  us.  Nor  does  he  establish  the  validity  of 
knowledge  on  this  basis :  the  fact  that  principles,  which  are  felt 
to  be  necessary  now,  represent  the  inherited  experiences  of  count- 
less generations  of  men,  does  not  guarantee  their  absolute 

truth. 

1  '    : 

Herbert  Spencer  was  born  in  1820  at  Derby,  England,  the  descendant 
of  a  family  of  teachers.  He  seems  to  have  inherited  his  intellectual 
gifts  from  his  father,  who  is  described  as  a  man  of  fine  culture  and 
independence  of  thought,  and  whose  example  in  teaching  his  pupils 
to  think  instead  of  to  memorize,  influenced  Spencer's  views  on  education. 
Owing  to  the  boy's  delicate  health,  his  father  did  not  push  him  in  his 
work,  and  we  hear  that  he  was  inattentive  and  lazy,  stubborn  and  dis- 
obedient at  school.  He  made  better  progress  outside  of  the  class-room, 
under  the  guidance  of  his  father,  who  taught  him  to  draw  from  nature, 
encouraged  his  desire  to  make  collections,  and  introduced  him  to  physical 
and  chemical  experiments.  Spencer  afterward  (1833-1836)  received 
instruction  from  his  uncle,  Thomas  Spencer,  a  clergyman  of  the  estab- 
lished church,  a  man  of  public  spirit  and  democratic  ideals,  who  was 
to  prepare  him  for  Cambridge,  but  Spencer  refused  to  go  to  a  place 
where  things  were  taught  in  which  he  was  not  interested.  He  could 
grasp  principles  and  draw  conclusions,  and  surpassed  his  fellow-students 
in  mathematics  and  mechanics,  but  memorizing  words  and  rules  of 
grammar  did  not  appeal  to  him.  His  works  show  the  effects  of  the 


EVOLUTIONISM  OF  HERBERT  SPENCER          537 

nanner  in  which  he  was  trained :  he  is  independent,  original,  and  natural, 
n  1837  he  assisted  his  father  in  teaching,  and  then  studied  eh 
jineering.  He  followed  his  profession  intermittently  until  1846,  when 
ic  devoted  himself  to  journalism.  His  spare  hours,  which  were  many, 
ic  devoted  to  the  study  of  geology  and  other  sciences.  His  first  great 
vork,  which  attracted  the  attention  of  a  small  though  select  circle  of 
hinkers,  was  Social  Statics  (1848-1850).  In  1852  Spencer  relinquished 
lis  editorship  of  the  Economist  and  devoted  the  rest  of  his  life  to 
working  out  his  system  of  synthetic  philosophy,  a  prospectus  of  which 
ppeared  in  1860.  He  suffered  great  financial  losses  in  publishing  his 
vorks,  and  his  literary  ventures  did  not  prosper  until  American  ad- 
nirers  arranged  for  the  publication  of  his  books  in  the  United  States. 

e  died  in  1903. 

Proper  Sphere  of  Government,  1842;  Social  Statics,  1850;  Principles 
of  Psychology,  1855;  Education,  1858-1859;  First  Principles,  1860- 
1862;  Principles  of  Biology,  1864-1867;  Principles  of  Sociology,  1876- 
1896;  Principles  of  Ethics,  1879-1893;  The  Man  versus  the  State; 
Essays,  5th  ed.,  3  vols.,  1891;  Facts  and  Comments,  1902;  Autobiogra- 
phy,  2  vols.,  1904. 

Collins,  Epitome  of  Spencer's  Philosophy  (preface  by  Spencer,  giv- 
ing summary  of  his  philosophy),  5th  ed.,  1905;  W.  H.  Hudson,  /»- 
troduction  to  Philosophy  of  H.  Spencer,  and  Spencer;  Ritchie, 
Principles  of  State  Interference;  Sidgwick,  Ethics  of  Green,  Spencer, 
and  Martineau;  Bowne,  Kant  and  Spencer;  Ward,  Naturalism  and 
Agnosticism,  vol.  I;  Gaupp,  Spencer;  Duncan,  Life  and  Letters  of 
Spencer;  books  by  Royce,  Haberlin,  Grosse,  Sfhwarze;  Ueberweg- 
Heinze,  op.  cit.,  §  59.  See  also  works  on  English  philosophy,  pp.  - 
f.,  and  under  Mill. 

Like  Hamilton,  Spencer  calls  attention  to  the  relativity  of 
knowledge,  and  shows  that  this  may  be  inferred  from  an  analysis 
of  the  product  of  thought  as  well  as  by  an  exami- 
nation  of  the  process  of  thought.    The  most  gen- 
eral  cognition  at  which  we  arrive  cannot  be  reduced 
to  a  more  general  one,  and  cannot,  therefore,  be  understood, 
interpreted,  or  explained.     Explanation  must  eventually  bring 
us  down  to  the  inexplicable;  and  the  deepest  truth  which  we 
can  get  at,  must  be  unaccountable.     Moreover,  the  process  of 
thought  itself  involves  relation,  difference,  and  likeness;  what- 
ever does  not  admit  of  these,  does  not  admit  of 
Thinking  being  relationing,  no  thought  can  ever  express  mor 
than  relations.    The  primary  act  of  thought  through  which  i 
discover  likeness  and  difference  underlies  all  our  knowledge, 
both  perception  and  inference.    Without  it  there  could  be  neit 
perception  nor  inference,  hence  the  validity  of  this  primary  func- 
tion of  mind  must  be  presupposed. 


538  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

It  is  the  business  of  philosophy  to  work  out  the  system  of 
ideas  rooted  in  consciousness,  to  discover  the  implications  of  our 
basal  intuitions,  and  to  construct  a  related  body  of  propositions. 
The  criterion  of  the  validity  of  thought  is  its  necessity  (the 
testimony  of  truth  is  the  inconceivability  of  the  opposite),  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  agreement  of  our  results  with  actual  ex- 
perience, on  the  other. 

If  knowledge  is  relative  in  the  sense  indicated,  it  follows  that 
we  can  know  only  the  finite  and  the  limited.  The  Absolute,  the 
First  Cause,  the  Infinite  cannot  be  known,  since  it  cannot  be 
likened  to,  or  differentiated  from,  anything  else.  We  can,  how- 
ever, always  relate  things  to  an  Absolute ;  indeed,  we  must  have 
an  Absolute  to  which  to  relate  them, — a  relative  is  itself  incon- 
ceivable except  as  related  to  a  real  non-relative, — the  relative 
presupposes  an  Absolute.  Hence,  we  can  know  things  in  relation 
to  one  another  and  to  an  Absolute.  If  we  could  not  relate  them 
to  an  Absolute,  they  would  not  be  known;  indeed,  they  would 
themselves  be  absolutes.  We  reach  the  consciousness  of  a  sub- 
stance that  underlies  all  phenomena.  It  is  impossible  to  get 
rid  of  the  consciousness  of  an  actuality  lying  behind  appear- 
ances; and  from  this  impossibility  results  our  indestructible 
belief  in  that  actuality  (realism}.  The  Absolute  itself,  how- 
ever, cannot  be  related  to  anything  else :  there  is  no  head  under 
which  it  can  be  brought,  hence  it  is  unknowable.  The  unknow- 
ableness  of  the  Absolute  is  not  only  proved  deductively,  from  the 
nature  of  our  intelligence,  but  also  inductively,  by  the  facts  of 
science:  we  cannot  comprehend  ultimate  scientific  ideas,  such 
as  space,  time,  matter,  motion,  force,  the  ego,  the  origin  of  mind, 
and  so  forth. 

Nevertheless,  the  fact  that  we  can  form  no  notion  of  the 
Absolute  is  no  reason  for  denying  its  existence.  Science  and 
religion  can  agree  on  this  point:  there  is  an  Absolute  Bein^ 
behind  all  phenomena.  Eeligion  seeks  to  interpret  this  uni- 
versal substance  for  us;  it  has  given  us  all  kinds  of  definition;? 
of  it,  but  the  more  advanced  a  religion  is,  the  more  it  under- 
stands that  the  Absolute  is  a  complete  mystery.  Thought  con- 
tinues to  seek  for  some  definition  of  it,  to  form  some  idea  of  it, 
and  there  is  no  objection  to  this,  so  long  as  it  is  remembered  tha  ; 
the  forms  in  which  we  endeavor  to  express  it  are  merely  sym- 


EVOLUTIONISM  OF  HERBERT  SPENCER         539 

bols.  We  are  compelled  to  conceive  it,  vaguely,  as  the  objective 
orrelate  of  our  subjective  feeling  of  activity,  or  muscular  strain, 
that  is,  as  power,  or  force.  Noumenon  and  phenomenon  are 
two  sides  of  the  same  change,  of  which  we  are  obliged  to  regard 
the  last  as  no  less  real  than  the  first. 

This  objective  power,  which  is  the  necessary  correlate  of  the 
subjective  feeling  of  force,  must  be  thought  of  as  persistent. 
[t  is  inconceivable  that  something  should  become 
nothing ;  when  we  say  that  something  becomes  noth-   Persistence  ^ 
ing,  we  are  establishing  a  relation  between  two 
deas,  one  of  which  does  not  exist.    By  the  persistence  of  power 
we  mean  the  persistence  of  some  cause  that  transcends  our  knowl- 
edge and  conception.    In  asserting  it,  we  assert  an  unconditional 
reality  without  beginning  and  end.    The  sole  truth  which  tran- 
scends experience  by  underlying  it,  is  the  persistence  of  force. 
[t  is  the  basis  of  experience,  and  must,  therefore,  be  the  scien- 
ific  basis  of  any  scientific  organization  of  experiences.    To  this 
an  ultimate  analysis  brings  us  down;  and  on  this  a  rational 
synthesis  must  build  up. 

By  the  indestructibility  of  matter  we  mean  the  indestructi- 
bility of  the  force  with  which  matter  affects  us.  This  truth  is 
made  manifest,  not  only  by  analysis  of  the  a  posteriori  cognition, 
but  equally  so  by  analysis  of  the  a  priori  one.  Another  general 
truth  is  the  continuity  of  motion.  It  is  inconceivable  that  some- 
thing,— motion, — should  become  nothing.  And  yet  movements 
are  constantly  disappearing.  The  fact  is,  translation  through 
space  is  not  itself  an  existence,  and  hence  the  cessation  of  motion, 
considered  simply  as  translation,  is  not  the  cessation  of  an 
existence,  but  is  the  cessation  of  a  certain  sign  of  existence. 
That  is,  the  space-element  in  motion  is  not  in  itself  a  thing. 
Change  of  position  is  not  an  existence,  but  the  manifestation  of 
an  existence.  This  existence  may  cease  to  display  itself  as  trans- 
lation, but  can  do  so  only  by  displaying  itself  as  strain.  This 
principle  of  activity,  now  shown  by  translation,  now  by  strain, 
and  often  by  the  two  together,  is  not  visible;  the  principle  of 
activity  which  motion  shows  us,  is  the  objective  correlate  of  our 
subjective  sense  of  effort.  The  continuity  of  motion  is  really 
known  to  us  in  terms  of  force. 

Force  is  of  two  classes:  force  by  which  matter  demonstrates 


540  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

itself  to  us  as  existing,  and  force  by  which  it  demonstrates  itself 
to  us  as  acting  (called  energy).  Energy  is  the  common  name 
for  the  power  shown  alike  in  the  movements  of  masses  and  in 
the  movements  of  molecules.  Each  manifestation  of  force  can 
be  interpreted  only  as  the  effect  of  some  antecedent  force:  no 
matter  whether  it  be  an  inorganic  action,  an  animal  movement, 
a  thought  or  a  feeling.  Either  mental  energies,  as  well  as  bodily 
ones,  are  quantitatively  correlated  to  certain  energies  expended 
in  their  production  and  to  certain  other  energies  which  they 
initiate ;  or  else  nothing  must  become  something,  and  something 
must  become  nothing.  We  must  either  deny  the  persistence  of 
force  or  admit  that  every  physical  and  psychical  change  is  gen- 
erated by  certain  antecedent  forces,  and  that  from  given  amounts 
of  such  forces  neither  more  nor  less  of  such  physical  and  psy- 
chical changes  can  result. 

The  basal  principle  of  science,  then,  is  the  principle  of  the 
conservation  of  energy :  no  energy  can  originate  or  be  lost.  This 
principle  Spencer  does  not  seek  to  prove  experimentally;  in- 
deed, it  is,  according  to  him,  presupposed  in  all  experimentation. 
It  is  a  necessity  of  thought,  a  postulate :  we  cannot  conceive  of 
something  coming  from  nothing  or  going  into  nothing;  the 
principle  is  implied  in  the  notion  of  causality  or  is  identical 
with  it.  We  are  compelled  to  assume  something  as  persisting. 

The  Absolute  or  Unknowable  manifests  itself  in  two  great 

groups  of  facts  which  are  diametrically  opposed :  subjective  and 

objective,  ego  and  non-ego,  mind  and  matter.    But 

Matter*1"  li  is  the  one  force  or  Power  that  expresses  itself 
in  both ;  both  what  we  think  and  our  thinking  itself 
are  different  kinds  of  force.  And  both  the  physical  and  the: 
psychical  are  subject  to  the  same  laws  of  experience.  If  the 
mental  and  the  material  are  conceived  as  two  irreducible  phases; 
of  the  Absolute,  then  mind  cannot  be  derived  from  matter,  the 
material  cannot  pass  into  the  psychical,  as  motion  passes  into 
heat.  In  the  earlier  editions  of  the  First  Principles  and  the 
Psychology,  Spencer  assumed  that  it  could;  afterward,  however 
he  saw  the  impossibility  of  explaining  consciousness  by  the 
principle  of  the  conservation  of  energy  interpreted  physically 
But  he  went  on  applying  the  formula  of  evolution,  which  is 
stated  in  terms  of  force,  matter,  and  motion,  to  all  phenomena. 


EVOLUTIONISM  OF  HERBERT  SPENCER          541 

I  including  those  of  life,  mind,  and  society.  This  is  what  gives 
I  his  system  the  appearance  of  materialism,  as  which  it  is  often 
attacked,  although  he  himself  warns  us  against  interpreting  it 
as  such.  The  Absolute  is  unknowable;  we  can  interpret  it  in 
materialistic  or  in  spiritualistic  terms;  in  either  case  we  are 
employing  mere  symbols.  A  power  the  nature  of  which  ever 
remains  unintelligible  to  us,  and  which  we  cannot  think  of  as 
limited  in  space  or  in  time,  produces  certain  effects  in  us.  We 
embrace  the  most  general  of  these  under  the  terms  matter,  mo- 
tion, force,  and  between  these  effects  there  exist  certain  similari- 
ties of  connection,  the  most  constant  of  which  we  embrace  as 
laws  of  the  highest  certainty. 

We  are  limited  in  our  knowledge  to  the  relative  phenomena, 
to  the  inner  and  outer  expressions  of  the  Absolute.  It  is  our 
business,  as  philosophers,  to  discover  the  traits 

common  to  all  phenomena,  or  to  find  the  universal   ^aw  °? 

„  .,  .  ^     ,  '  .  .    Evolution 

law  of  things.    Such  a  law  we  have  in  the  law  of 

evolution.  We  note  various  phases  in  the  process  of  evolution: 
(1)  concentration  (as  seen  in  the  formation  of  a  cloud,  in  the 
sand-heap,  in  the  primitive  nebula,  in  the  organism,  and  in 
society)  ;  (2)  differentiation,  or  the  separation  of  the  mass  from 
its  environment,  and  the  formation  of  special  masses  within 
it;  (3)  determination,  the  formation  of  the  differentiated  parts 
into  a  unified,  organized  whole,  the  parts  being  different  and  yet 
in  mutual  relation  with  one  another.  This  is  what  distinguishes 
evolution  from  dissolution,  in  which  we  have  differentiation,  but 
not  organization.  In  determination,  there  is  differentiation  of 
parts  and  integration  or  concentration  of  parts  into  a  whole. 
In  this  sense,  evolution  is  the  passage  from  a  state  of  indefinite, 
incoherent  homogeneity  to  a  state  of  definite,  coherent  hetero- 
geneity. This  law  is  derived  inductively,  but  it  can  also  be 
reached  by  deduction  from  the  primary  principle  of  the  per- 
sistence of  force,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  Spencer  identifies  with 
the  law  of  causation,  from  which  follow:  the  indestructibility 
of  matter,  the  continuity  of  motion  (potential  and  actual),  the 
persistence  of  relations  among  forces,  the  transformation  and 
equivalence  of  forces,  including  mental  and  social  forces,  the 
law  of  the  direction  of  motion,  and  the  unceasing  rhythm  of 
motion.  The  law  of  universal  synthesis  is  the  law  of  the  con- 


542  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tinuous  redistribution  of  matter  and  motion.  Evolution  con-] 
sists  in  the  integration  of  matter  and  the  dissipation  of  motion ; 
dissolution  consists  in  the  absorption  of  motion  and  the  disinte- 
gration of  matter.  When  both  concentration  and  differentiation 
have  reached  a  state  of  equilibrium,  the  climax  of  evolution  has 
been  reached.  This  state  cannot  endure  because  external  influ- 
ences will  tend  to  destroy  it.  In  other  words,  dissolution  is  bound 
to  result,  and  the  whole  process  will  begin  over  again.  All  this 
applies  not  to  the  universe  as  a  whole,  but  only  to  the  particular 
wholes  which  appear  in  our  experience. 

The  universal  principles,  obtained  in  the  First  Principles,  are 
applied  by  Spencer  to  the  various  forms  of  existence, — life, 
mind,  society,  and  conduct.  They  are  postulated  as  true  and  are 
employed  to  prove  the  special  truths  of  biology,  psychology, 
sociology,  and  ethics:  the  latter  are  illustrations  of  universal 
truths;  universal  truths  are  explanations  of  the  special  truths. 
Thus,  the  law  of  evolution  applies  to  all  phenomena;  the  spe- 
cial laws  discovered  in  the  various  fields  of  investigation  will, 
therefore,  be  found  to  come  under  the  universal  law,  or  to  be 
expressions  of  this  law.  Such  empirical  laws  or  truths  are  de- 
ductively proved  when  they  are  shown  to  be  special  cases  of  the 
universal  law. 

Life  is  a  continuous  adaptation  of  internal  (physiological) 
relations  to  external  relations.  The  organism  not  only  receives 
impressions,  but  undergoes  changes  in  consequence, 
which  enable  it  to  react  upon  subsequent  changes 
of  the  external  world  in  a  specific  way.  That  is,  inner  changes 
take  place  in  the  organism  which  adapt  it  to  external  relations : 
there  is  reciprocal  action  between  internal  and  external  events. 
The  organism  cannot  maintain  itself  unless  it  evolves  a  system 
of  inner  relations  corresponding  to  the  external  relations.  The 
more  intimate  the  correspondence  between  the  inner  and  the 
outer  relations,  the  more  highly  developed  is  the  organism.  The 
most  perfect  life  would  be  that  in  which  there  is  complete  adap- 
tation, or  harmony,  between  internal  and  external  relations. 

Organic  forms  have  not  arisen  from  inorganic  matter,  but 
from  an  original  structureless  organic  mass,  or  homogeneous 
protoplasm,  under  the  influence  of  external  causes.  Difference 
are  produced  in  the  organic  tissue  in  accordance  with  the  operh- 


EVOLUTIONISM  OF  HERBERT  SPENCER          543 

tion  of  the  universal  law  of  evolution;  that  is,  the  original 
heterogeneous  mass  differentiates.  The  species  arise  as  a  result 
of  the  interaction  between  the  organism  and  the  external  world. 
Morphological  and  physiological  differentiation  is  the  direct 
result  of  the  differentiation  of  external  forces;  astronomical, 
geological,  and  meteorological  conditions  change  slowly,  but  the 
changes  have  been  continuous  for  millions  of  years.  Variations 
occur  in  the  organism  through  external  causes,  and,  if  adapted, 
are  preserved  by  natural  selection*  Changes  are  produced  in  the 
relation  of  the  physiological  units  composing  the  organism  by 
the  continuous  functioning  of  the  parts  (function  precedes  struc- 
ture) and  are  transmitted  to  progeny j  (inheritance  of  acquired 
characters).  Natural  selection  alone,  therefore,  according  to 
Spencer,  fails  to  explain  the  origin  of  species;  and  Darwin  ex- 
aggerates the  influence  of  this  indirect  mode  of  evolution.  The 
organism  adapts  itself  to  an  external  impression,  and  such  adap- 
tation brings  about  a  new  state  of  equilibrium  in  the  organism. 

Physics  examines  external  phenomena  as  such;  psychology, 
internal  phenomena  as  such;  physiology  investigates  the  con- 
nection and  relation  between  the  internal  and  the 
external.  Subjective  psychology  is  introspective: 
it  studies  the  feelings,  ideas,  emotions,  and  volitions,  which 
accompany  the  visible  adaptations  of  the  inner  relations,  and 
inquires  into  the  origin  and  reciprocal  relations  of  states  of 
consciousness.  Psychical  occurrences  and  nerve-action  are  the 
inner  and  outer  sides  of  one  and  the  same  change.  What  is, 
objectively  considered,  a  nervous  change,  is,  subjectively  con- 
sidered, a  phenomenon  of  consciousness.  Objective  psychology 
does  not  study  mental  processes  as  such,  but  considers  them  in 
their  relation  to  human  and  animal  actions.  As  a  part  of 
biology,  it  examines  mental  phenomena  as  functions  by  means 
of  which  internal  relations  are  adapted  to  external  relations. 

Consciousness  arises  when  impressions  become  so  numerous  ac 
to  necessitate  their  arrangement  in  a  series:  when  the  organism 
cannot  adapt  itself  to  its  environment  without  such  a  serial 
arrangement.  Consciousness  is,  therefore,  defined  as  a  form  of 
adaptation  of  serially  arranged  inner  states  to  outer  states.  But 
it  is  not  a  mere  sum  of  feelings  and  ideas ;  there  is  a  substantial 
something  or  combining  medium  behind  them,  which,  howeyer, 


544  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

is  unknowable,  for  the  same  reason  that  all  ultimates  are  un- 
knowable. We  can,  however,  study  the  changing  states  or  modi- 
fications in  which  this  substance  manifests  itself.  It  is  the 
business  of  psychology  to  discover  the  units  of  consciousness, 
the  elements  of  which  it  is  composed.  Analysis  of  the  phenome- 
nal aspects  of  consciousness  reveals  ultimate  units,  which  Spencer 
regards  as  "  something  of  the  same  order  as  that  which  we  call 
a  nervous  shock, ' ' — as  the  mental  equivalent  of  a  nervous  shock. 
Just  as  the  different  sensations  are  made  up  of  common  units, 
so  a  perception  is  composed  of  units  or  atoms  of  feeling.  The 
mental  unit  or  atom  is  irreducible  to  the  material  unit  or  atom. 
We  conceive  the  material  atom  as  resistance,  in  analogy  with 
our  own  feeling  of  effort,  that  is,  we  read  into  the  material  atom 
our  own  consciousness  of  activity.  In  the  same  way,  we  inter- 
pret our  mental  events  in  material  terms.  Spencer  finds  in  con- 
scious life  the  same  features  which  are  exhibited  in  all  relative 
reality:  concentration,  differentiation,  and  determination;  con- 
sciousness is  an  evolution  and  can  be  understood  only  as  a  proc- 
ess of  development,  as  a  continuous  series  of  gradations,  from 
reflex  action  to  instinct,  memory,  and  reason.  These  are  merely 
different  degrees  or  stages  of  intelligence,  which  pass  into  one 
another  imperceptibly,  corresponding  to  the  gradually  increasing 
complexity  and  differentiation  of  external  conditions.  Memory 
and  reason,  for  example,  arise  from  instinct.  Primary  inference 
is  entirely  instinctive.  Volition  appears  when  automatic  action 
becomes  impossible,  owing  to  the  growing  complexity  of  the  situ- 
ation. We  have  already  seen  how  Spencer  derives  the  principles 
of  knowledge  from  the  experience  of  the  race.  In  the  same  evo- 
lutionary way  he  explains  the  feelings;  the  feelings  of  anger, 
justice,  sympathy,  which  are  original  in  the  individual,  are 
the  result  of  the  constant  struggle  of  our  ancestors  with  the 
environment. 

It  is  not  true  that  we  are  originally  conscious  only  of  our 

sensations,  and  that  we  infer  the  existence  of  objects  outside 

of  us.     Idealism  is  a  disease  of  language;  it  lives 

World  °n^  *n  °ur  wor(^s'  not  *n  our  thoughts.     Reason 

which  undermines  the  assertions  of  perception  de- 
stroys its  own  authority.  Realism  is  forced  on  us  by  the  basal 
law  of  consciousness,  the  universal  postulate  of  reason.  It  is 


EVOLUTIONISM  OF  HERBERT  SPENCER          545 

•inconceivable  that  there  should  be  no  object  when  I  feel  it  and 
|see  it.  We  are  compelled  to  think  an  extra-mental  reality,  and 
we  are  compelled  to  think  it  as  force,  as  the  objective  correlate 
of  the  subjective  feeling  of  force  or  feeling  of  muscular  ten- 
sion, which  we  experience  in  ourselves  and  which  is  the  universal 
symbol  of  the  unknowable  objective  existence  or  persisting  some- 
thing. This  unknown  reality  is  also  symbolized  in  our  ideas  of 
space,  time,  matter,  and  motion. 

This  transfigured  realism,  as  Spencer  calls  it,  takes  the  place 
of  crude  realism.  It  holds  that  the  things  represented  in  our 
consciousness  are  not  images,  or  copies,  or  pictures,  of  the  ob- 
jective reality,  but  symbols  which  have  as  little  in  common  with 
the  realities  they  represent  as  letters  have  in  common  with  the 
psychic  states  for  which  they  stand.  But  that  there  is  some- 
thing beyond  consciousness  is  an  inevitable  conclusion ;  to  think 
otherwise  is  to  think  of  change  taking  place  without  an  antece- 
dent. "  There  is  some  ontological  order  whence  arises  the 
phenomenal  order  we  know  as  space;  there  is  some  ontological 
order  whence  arises  the  phenomenal  order  we  know  as  time; 
and  there  is  some  ontological  nexus  whence  arises  the  phenomenal 
relation  we  know  as  difference."  Such  knowledge  of  the  exter- 
nal world  is  greatly  limited,  but  it  is  the  only  knowledge  which 
is  of  use  to  us.  All  we  need  to  know  is  not  the  outer  agencies 
themselves,  but  their  persistent  relations,  and  this  knowledge  we 
have.  An  ever-present  sense  of  real  existence  is  the  very  basis 
of  our  intelligence.  There  ever  remains  with  us  a  sense  of  that 
which  exists  persistently  and  independently  of  conditions.  We 
cannot  form  a  conception  of  this  absolute  existence;  every  no- 
tion which  we  frame  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  itself.  Prom 
the  impossibility  of  getting  rid  of  the  consciousness  of  an  actu- 
ality lying  behind  appearances  results  our  indestructible  belief 
in  that  actuality. 

In  the  Preface  to  the  Data  of  Ethics,  Spencer  declares  all 
the  preceding  parts  of  his  task,  as  a  synthetic  philosopher,  to 
be  subsidiary  to  his  Principles  of  Morality.     His   Ethicg 
purpose  had  been,  ever  since  the  appearance  of 
his  first  work,  The  Proper  Sphere  of  Government  (1842),  to  find 
a  scientific  basis  for  the  principles  of  right  and  wrong  in  con- 
duct at  large.^In  order  to  understand  the  meaning  of  moral 


546  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

conduct,  he  tells  us,  we  must  comprehend  conduct  as  a  whole, 
the  conduct  of  all  living  creatures  and  the  evolution  of  conduct, 
and  we  must  examine  it  in  its  physical,  biological,  psychological, 
and  social  aspects;  in  other  words,  study  it  in  the  light  of  the 
results  of  the  other  sciences. 

Such  a  study  will  lead  us  to  define  conduct  either  as  acts 
adjusted  to  ends  or  the  adjustment  of  acts  to  ends,  and  will 
show  us  that  the  most  highly  evolved  and,  therefore,  ethically 
best  conduct  is  such  as  makes  life  richer  and  longer  for  the 
individual  performing  it,  for  his  offspring,  and  for  the  beings 
among  whichhe^Ji2£s4HThe  limit  of  evolution  is  reached  in  a 
permanently  peaceful  society,  in  which  every  member  achieves 
his  ends  without  preventing  others  from  achieving  theirs  (jus- 
tice), and  in  which  members  give  mutual  help  in  the  achievement 
of  ends  (beneficence).  Whatever  facilitates  the  adjustments 
of  each,  increases  the  totality  of  the  adjustments  made,  and 
serves  to  render  the  lives  of  all  more  complete.  We  call  good 
or  bad  acts  which  subserve  or  hinder  life,  only  on  the  supposition 
that  life  brings  more  happiness  than  misery  (optimism).  The 
good  is  universally  the  pleasurable  (hedonism).  Actions  are 
completely  right  only  when,  besides  being  conducive  to  future 
happiness,  special  and  general,  they  are  immediately  pleasurable. 
A  large  part  of  human  conduct  is  not  absolutely  right,  but  only 
relatively  right  because  entailing  some  pain.  The  ideal  code 
of  absolute  ethics  formulates  the  behavior  of  the  completely 
adapted  man  in  the  completely  evolved  society.  Such  a  code 
will  enable  us  to  interpret  the  phenomena  of  real  societies  in 
their  transitional  states,  full  of  miseries  due  to  non-adaptation, 
and  to  form  approximately  true  conclusions  respecting  the  na- 
ture of  the  abnormalities  and  the  courses  which  tend  most  in 
the  direction  of  the  normal/^ 

Spencer  insists  that  the  lives  of  the  units  in  the  social  groups 
are  always  the  ultimate  end  of  morality,  not  the  welfare  of 
society  as  such.  The  integrity  of  society  is  a  means  to  the  wel- 
fare of  ths  units,  hence  whatever  threatens  this  integrity  will 
hurt  the  units.  In  the  beginning,  egoism  is  strong  and  altruism 
weak ;  hence  the  relative  moral  code  emphasizing  those  restraints 
on  conduct  which  the  presence  of  fellow-men  entails.  It  prohibits 
acts  of  aggression  and  commands  restraints  making  cooperation 


EVOLUTIONISM  OF  HERBERT  SPENCER         547 

possible  (justice),  as  well  as  enjoins  spontaneous  efforts  to 
further  welfare  (beneficence).  Sympathy  is  the  root  of  both 
justice  and  beneficence.  Since  the  ideal  is  the  greatest  amount 
of  individual  perfection  and  happiness,  egoism  must  come  before 
altruism:  each  creature  shall  take  the  benefits  and  evils  of  ita 
own  nature,  inherited  or  acquired.  But  altruism,  too,  is  essen- 
tial to  the  development  of  life  and  the  increase  of  happiness,  and 
self-sacrifice  no  less  primordial  than  self-preservation.  The  ego- 
istic satisfactions  of  each  unit  in  a  society  depend  on  such  altru- 
istic actions  as  being  just,  seeing  justice  done,  upholding  and 
improving  the  agencies  for  the  administration  of  justice,  and 
improving  others  physically,  intellectually,  and  morally.  Pure 
egoism  and  pure  altruism  are  both  illegitimate.  Under  increas- 
ing social  discipline,  sympathetic  pleasures  will  come  to  be  spon- 
taneously pursued  to  the  fullest  extent  advantageous  to  each 
and  all.  Eventually,  every  one  will  be  eager  to  surrender  his 
egoistic  claims,  while  others,  similarly  natured,  will  not  permit 
him  in  any  large  measure  to  do  this. 

Spencer  offers  an  evolutionary  hedonism,  combining  the 
teachings  of  traditional  English  Utilitarianism  with  the  new 
theory  of  evolution.  This  is  possible  from  his  standpoint,  be- 
cause, in  his  opinion,  the  most  highly  evolved  conduct  yields 
the  greatest  amount  of  happiness.  He  also  distinguishes  his 
rational  Utilitarianism  from  the  empirical  Utilitarianism  of 
his  predecessors,  on  the  ground  that  his  system  of  ethics  de- 
duces the  rules  of  morality  from  fundamental  principles  sup- 
plied by  the  various  sciences  upon  which  it  rests. 

The  ethical  ideal,  then,  is  the  production  of  perfect  and  happy 
individuals :  the  survival  of  the  fittest  individuals  and  the  spread 
of  the  most  adapted  varieties.    This  end  can  only  Politics 
be  realized  when  each  individual  receives  the  bene- 
fits and  the  evils  of  his  own  nature  and  its  consequent  conduct 
But  since  group-life  is  essential  to  the  survival  of  the  f 
every  individual  has  to  carry  on  that  conduct  subject  to  t 
restriction  that  it  shall  not  in  any  large  measure  impede  Un- 
equal conduct  of  others.     In  the  case  of  defensive 
viduals  may  be  further  restricted,  even  to  the  exte 
sacrifice  of  life.    Justice,  therefore,  demands  that  each  E 
man  be  free  to  do  what  he  wills,  provided  he  infringe  not  the 


548  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

equal  freedom  of  any  other  man.  Rights,  truly  so-called,  are 
corollaries  of  the  law  of  equal  freedom :  every  man  has  the  right 
to  act  up  to  a  certain  limit  but  not  beyond  it. 

From  these  premises^Spencer  argues  against  the  modern  so- 
cialistic State.  All-embracing  State  functions,  he  holds,  char- 
acterize a  low  social  type;  and  progress  to  a  higher  social  type 
is  marked  by  relinquishment  of  functions.  The  incorporated 
mass  of  citizens  has  to  maintain  the  conditions  under  which 
each  may  gain  the  fullest  life  possible  compatible  with  the  full- 
est lives  of  fellow-citizens.  The  State  must  prevent  internal 
aggressions  and  protect  its  members  from  foreign  invasion :  when 
it  goes  beyond  that,  it  transgresses  justice.  Extension  of  State 
functions  has  proved  disastrous  all  along,  while  only  legislation 
which  has  been  guided  by  considerations  of  equity  has  proved 
successful.  Moreover,  the  various  non-governmental  agencies  do 
best  under  the  stress  of  competition.  Competition  likewise  im- 
pels them  to  improve,  to  utilize  the  best  appliances,  and  to  get 
the  best  men.  The  social  needs  at  large  are  also  best  subserved 
in  this  way.  Finally,  State  interference  has  an  evil  effect  on 
character.  The  nature  which  we  have  inherited  from  an  un- 
civilized past,  and  which  is  still  very  imperfectly  fitted  to  the 
partially-civilized  present,  will,  if  allowed  to  do  so,  slowly  adjust 
itself  to  the  requirements  of  a  fully-civilized  future.  The  disci- 
pline of  social  life  which  has  done  so  much  in  these  few  thousand 
years,  will,  in  the  course  of  time,  do  what  has  to  be  done.  And 
it  is  impossible  for  artificial  molding  to  do  that  which  natural 
molding  does.  Spencer  is  bitterly  opposed  to  Socialism;  he 
thinks  it  is  coming,  and  that  it  will  be  a  great  misfortune  to  the 
race,  but  that  it  will  not  last.  He  is  not  to  be  understood  as 
hostile  to  mutual  aid  and  voluntary  cooperation;  indeed,  he  be- 
lieves that  a  voluntary  cooperation  characteristic  of  .industri- 
alism will  come  to  predominate,  in  which  the  units  will  be  molded 
to  serve  the  purposes  of  the  aggregate  and  that  the  molding  wil'. 
be  spontaneously  achieved  by  self -adjustment  to  the  life  of  vol- 
untary cooperation.  He  accepts  the  laisser-faire  theory  because 
he  believes  that  the  general  happiness  can  be  realized  only  by 
letting  individuals  work  out  their  own  salvation,  without  undu< 
interference  by  the  StaterK 


NEW  IDEALISM  $49 

70.   NEW  IDEALISM  IN  ENGLAND  AND  THE  UNITED  STATES 

At  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,  German  idealistic 
thought,  based  on  Kant,  found  its  way  into  England  through 
the  great  leaders  of  literature,  Coleridge,  Words- 
worth, Carlyle,  and  Ruskin,  and  began  to  influ-  Influence  of 
nce  both  empiricism  and  intuitionism,  John  Stuart  ^JJjJJJ, 
Vlill  as  well  as  Whewell  and  Hamilton.  But  a 
lerious  study  of  the  new  German  philosophy  was  not  undertaken 
until  after  the  appearance  of  J.  H.  Stirling's  Secret  of  Hegel 
n  1865;  since  which  time  a  group  of  vigorous  thinkers,  pro- 
oundly  influenced  by  Kant  and  Hegel,  and  indeed  by  the  entire 
dealistic  movement,  have  taken  the  leadership  in  British 
thought.  We  mention  the  names  of  Thomas  Hill  Green,  Ed- 
ward Caird,  John  Caird,  F.  H.  Bradley,  and  B.  Bosanquet. 
The  first  great  work  of  the  Neo-Hegelian  school,  as  it  has  been 
called,  was  Green's  Introduction  to  Hume  (1875),  which  was 
followed  by  E.  Caird 's  Critical  Account  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Kant  (1877),  the  predecessor  of  his  larger  book,  The  Critical 
Philosophy  of  Kant  (2  vols.,  1889),  and  by  a  large  number  of 
expositions  and  translations  of  German  philosophers,  to  which 
additions  are  being  constantly  made.  James  Ward  (born  1843; 
Naturalism  and  Agnosticism,  3d  ed.,  1907 ;  The  Realm  of  Ends, 
1912)  is  an  idealist  of  Lotze's  type,  who  teaches  pluralism  and 
substitutes  the  notion  of  a  creative  God,  as  the  unity  of  the 
world,  for  the  Absolute  of  the  monists.  The  idealistic  philosophy, 
partly  through  the  mediation  of  English  Neo-Hegelianism,  and 
partly  through  a  direct  study  of  German  thought,  has  also 
won  a  large  following  in  the  United  States,  counting  many  pro- 
fessors of  philosophy  in  the  universities  among  its  adherents, 
with  Josiah  Royce  at  their  head. 

What  is  common  to  the  representatives  of  this  school  is  the 
emphasis  they  place  upon  the  organic  conception  of  mind  and 
knowledge  in  opposition  to  the  atomistic  treatment  characteristic 
of  English  associationism ;  their  repudiation  of  mechanism  as  a 
universal  theory;  and  their  view  that  the  world  of  experience 
constitutes  the  subject-matter  of  philosophy.  Tin-  English  phi- 
losophers  did  not  adopt  the  a  priori  or  dialectical  methods  of 
the  German  teachers  nor  uncritically  accept  their  results,  but, 


550  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

following  Green's  hint,  "  worked  over  "  the 'entire  material  of 
German  idealism  in  a  fresh  and  independent  manner,  retaining, 
however,  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  movement  inaugu- 
rated by  Kant. 

On  the  entire  school  see :  Forsyth  and  Seth,  mentioned  on  pp.  254,  f . ; 
last  German  edition  of  Falckenberg,  History  of  Modern  Philosophy; 
Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  cit.,  §  61 ;  bibliography  in  Ueberweg-Heinze.  For 
contemporary  British  philosophy,  see  J.  S.  Mackenzie,  La  philosophic 
de  Grand-Bretagne,  Revue  de  metaphysique  et  morale,  vol.  XVI,  5, 
pp.  583-606 ;  for  contemporary  philosophy  in  the  United  States :  Frank 
Thilly,  Philosophie  americaine  contemporaine,  same  place,  and  in 
Studies  in  Language  and  Literature  in  Honor  of  J.  M.  Hart;  for  con- 
temporary idealism  in  general:  Chiappelli,  Revue  philosophique,  Sep- 
tember, 1911,  and  Chiappelli's  book,  Dalla  critica  al  nuovo  idealismo; 
for  contemporary  philosophy :  Perry,  Present  Tendencies  in  Philosophy. 
See  also  bibliography,  pp.  563,  f. 

Thomas  Hill  Green  was  born  in  Birkin,  Yorkshire,  in  1836,  the 
son  of  the  rector  of  the  parish.  From  Rugby  he  went  up  to  Balliol 
College,  Oxford,  where  he  spent  the  rest  of  his  life  as 
Green  student,  fellow,  tutor,  lecturer,  and  professor.  After 

lecturing  on  ancient  and  modern  history  and  ancient  and 
modern  philosophy,  he  was  chosen  professor  of  moral  philosophy,  in 
1878,  a  position  which  he  held  until  his  death  in  1882.  In  addition  to 
his  academic  duties,  Green  devoted  himself  faithfully  to  practical  educa- 
tional, political,  and  social  work;  he  helped  to  introduce  reforms  into 
his  college;  acted  as  member  of  the  town-council;  served  on  the  Royal 
Commission  for  reforming  popular  education  in  England;  was  inter- 
ested in  the  temperance  movement,  the  ethical  movement,  and  charity 
work.  He  always  manifested  a  warm  sympathy  for  the  humbler 
classes  and  an  abiding  faith  in  democracy.  Bryce  says  of  him  that 
"  people  came  to  respect  his  character  with  its  high  sense  of  duty,  its 
simplicity,  its  uprightness,  its  earnest  devotion  to  an  ideal,  even  more 
than  they  admired  his  intellectual  powers." 

Introduction  to  the  Philosophy  of  Hume,  first  published  1874  in 
Green's  and  Grossed  edition  of  Hume's  works;  Prolegomena  to  Ethics, 
1883;  Lectures  on  Principles  of  Political  Obligation,  1895.  Works 
edited  by  Nettleship,  3  vols.,  containing  all  but  the  Prolegomena. 

Memoir  by  Nettleship,  in  Works,  vol.  I  (also  separate) ;  Fairbrother, 
Philosophy  of  Green;  R.  B.  C.  Johnson,  The  Metaphysics  of  Knowledge, 
Being  an  Examination  of  T.  H.  Green's  Theory  of  Reality;  Sidgwick, 
Lectures  on  Green,  Spencer  and  Martineau;  Grieve,  Das  geistige  Princip 
in  der  Philosophie  Greens;  G.  F.  James,  Green  und  der  Utilitarismus  : 
Muirhead,  The  Service  of  the  State:  Four  Lectures  on  the  Political 
Teaching  of  Green ;  Ritchie,  The  Principles  of  State  Interference  • 
Pringle-Pattison,  Hegelianism  and  Personality;  McCunn,  Six  Radical 
Thinkers.  See  also  articles  in  Mind,  Philosophical  Review,  and  Inter- 
national Journal  of  Ethics. 


NEW  IDEALISM  551 

The  philosophical  standpoint  of  Green  is  that  of  objective 
dealism,  which  he  developed  under  the  influence  of  the  German 
dealists  and  in  opposition  to  the  traditional  Eng- 
ish  conceptions  of  the  world  and  of  life.    On  the 
>asis  of  Kant's  criticism  and  the  idealistic  metaphysics  of  his 
uccessors,  he  attacks  the  empiricism  of  Hume,  the  hedonism  of 
/Till,  and  the  evolutionism  of  Spencer,  and  seeks  to  supplement 
latural  science  with  a  spiritualistic  metaphysic.    His  philosophy 
s  an  attempt  to  do  justice  to  the  opposing  tendencies  of  his 
ime, — to  rationalism  and  empiricism,  religion  and  science,  pan- 
heism  and  theism,  Greek  culture  and  Christianity,  the  theory 
f  perfection  and  Utilitarianism,  libertarian  ism  and  determin- 
sm,  individualism  and  universalism.   Man  for  Green  is  not  merely 
a  child  of  nature:  how  could  a  being  that  is  merely  a  result 
f  natural  forces  form  a  theory  of  those  forces  as  explaining 
limself  ?    Man  is  a  spiritual  being  and  as  such  not  a  member 
n  the  series  of  natural  events  (phenomena).    There  is  in  him 
principle  not  natural,  and  the  specific  function  of  this  prin- 
ciple is  to  render  knowledge  possible.    The  same  spiritual  prin- 
ciple that  makes  knowledge  possible  has  another  expression,  which 
consists  in  the  consciousness  of  a  moral  ideal  and  the  deter- 
mination of  human  action  thereby.    Without  the  assumption  of 
such    a   spiritual   self,    there    can   be   neither  knowledge   nor 
morality. 

Natural  science  deals  with  the  natural,  the  phenomenal,  the 
temporal  and  spatial,  with  matters  of  fact  which  are  ascertain- 
able  by  observation  and  experience.  Philosophy,  or  metaphysics, 
deals  with  the  spiritual  or  noumenal,  the  principle  of  which 
these  facts  are  the  expression.  The  fault  of  the  empiricists  and 
the  evolutionists  is  that  they  treat  that  which  produces  this 
phenomenal  order  as  the  product  of  this  order.  There  can  be 
no  knowledge  of  nature  without  a  unifying,  organizing  spiritual 
principle ;  so  far  Green  agrees  with  the  Critique  of  Kant.  But 
he  goes  beyond  it  in  concluding  with  the  post-Kantian  idealists, 
that  there  can  be  no  order  of  nature  itself  without  such  a  prin- 
ciple. Nature  is  a  manifold,  and  yet  there  is  unity  in  it ;  hence, 
we  must  interpret  it  in  analogy  with  self-consciousness,  and 
regard  it  as  a  spiritual  cosmos,  as  a  system  of  related  facts, 
rendered  possible  by  an  eternal  intelligence.  That  there  is 


552  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

an  all-uniting  consciousness,  is  implied  in  the  existence  of  I 
world.  What  it  is,  we  can  know  only  through  its  acting  in  us 
it  enables  us  to  have  knowledge  of  a  world  and  a  moral  ideal. 

The  question  arises,  What  is  man's  place  in  such  a  universe  1 

As  a  knowing,  self-conscious  being,  man  exists  as  free  activity, — 

as  activity  that  is  not  in  time,  not  a  link  in  the 

Man's  Place  chain  of  natural  becoming, — which  has  no  ante- 
in  Nature  .  „  0  „ 

cedents  other  than  itself.     Self-consciousness  has 

no  origin,  it  never  began  because  it  never  was  not.  All  the 
processes  of  brain  and  nerve  and  tissue,  all  the  functions  of  life 
and  sense,  including  the  successive  phenomena  of  our  mental 
history,  are  determined  by  the  universal  consciousness.  But 
human  consciousness  itself  is  a  reproduction  of  the  universal 
mind,  at  least  so  far  as  it  is  synthetic  and  self -originative.  We 
are  not  so  much  determined  by  the  universal  consciousness  as 
made  the  subjects  of  its  self-communication.  The  evolution 
theory,  Green  thinks,  does  not  affect  this  view.  The  human 
organism  may  have  evolved  out  of  the  animal;  the  animal  or- 
ganism may  have  been  modified  so,  in  countless  generations, 
that  an  eternal  consciousness  could  realize  itself  and  reproduce 
itself  through  its  functions. 

Green  shows  that  a  mere  succession  of  impressions  or  sensa- 
tions is  not  knowledge,  that  knowledge  is  not  possible  with- 
out a  self  that  has  these  sensations  and  organizes  them.  Simi- 
larly, he  points  out,  a  mere  succession  of  animal  wants,,  or 
impulses,  or  appetites,  does  not  constitute  human  action:  it  is 
not  the  same  as  a  subject  presenting  such  wants  to  himself.  An 
appetite  or  animal  want  is  a  natural  event,  but  not  a  motive 
proper:  it  does  not  move  to  a  distinctively  human  action  unless 
it  is  presented  by  a  self-conscious  subject  to  himself,  unless,  in 
other  words,  he  consciously  makes  the  want  or  impulse  his  own, 
adopts  it,  identifies  himself  with  it,  and  strives  to  bring  into 
real  existence  the  ideal  object  of  which  he  is  conscious  in  the 
impulse  or  want.  Merely  to  be  pushed  into  action  by  an  anima! 
appetite  is  not  human  action  or  conduct.  When  a  man  identi- 
fies himself  with  one  of  the  impulses,  or  passions,  or  influences, 
or  tendencies  towards  different  objects,  he  wills.  His  willing  is 
a  desire  in  which  the  man  enacts  himself,  as  distinct  from  one 
which  acts  upon  him.  Now,  it  is  true,  the  kind  of  good  a  person 


NEW  IDEALISM  553 

resents  to  himself  depends  on  his  past  passion  and  action  and 
n  circumstances,  is  due  to  the  past  history  of  his  inner  life 
determinism) .  But  throughout  the  past  experience,  he  has  been 
object  to  himself,  and  thus  the  author  of  his  acts.  He  is, 
tierefore,  responsible  for  the  kind  of  good  that  moves  him  now. 
besides,  he  can  conceive  a  better  state  for  himself  and  can,  there- 
ore,  seek  to  become,  and  become  in  the  future,  other  and  better 
ian_hejs  now  (freemUJi. 

It  is  because  man  can  conceive  a  better  state  of  himself,  can 
ek  to  realize  this  state,  can  will,  that  he  is  a  moral  agent, 
le  can  do  this  because  he  is  a  self-conscious  sub- 
ect,  a  reproduction  of  the  eternal  self-conscious- 
ess.     The  idea  of  a  better  state  is  a  communication  in  germ 
f  the  ideal,  or  ultimate  end,  in  God's  mind.    This  idea  operates 
n  a  man  by  keeping  before  him  an  object  which  he  presents 
to  himself  as  absolutely  desirable.    It  has  been  the  moralizing 
agent  in  human  life. 

What,  then,  is  the  moral  good?  It  is  that  which  satisfies  the 
desire  of  a  moral  agent.  The  true  good  is  an  end  in  which  the 
effort  of  a  moral  agent  can  really  find  rest,  it  is  an  end  which 
his  basal  self,  his  real  will,  regards  as  an  unconditional  good, 
as  something  having  absolute  worth,  as  absolutely  desirable. 
Now  man  has  the  conception  of  something  absolutely  desirable 
in  himself.  This  self  is  a  self  affected  by  many  interests,  also 
by  interests  in  other  persons.  The  other  men  are  ends  to  me; 
or  rather,  they  are  part  of  the  end,  included  in  it,  included  in 
the  end  for  which  I  live  in  living  for  myself.  That  is,  I  con- 
ceive as  the  highest  good  the  realization  of  human  personality, 
the  perfection  of  the  human  soul,  the  unfolding  of  its  capacities ; 
and  in  striving  after  this  goal  I  needs  must  help  other  souls; 
there  must  be  at  work  in  my  mind  the  idea  of  an  absolute  and 
common  good,  good  for  me  and  others.  With  this  idea,  however 
restricted  in  range  it  may  be,  there  is  given,  in  promise  and 
potency,  the  ideal  of  which  the  realization  would  be  perfect 
morality,  the  ideal  of  a  society  in  which  every  one  shall  treat 
every  one  else  as  a  neighbor,  in  which  to  every  rational  agent 
the  well-being  or  perfection  of  every  other  such  agent  ahall  be 
included  in  that  perfection  of  himself  for  which  he  lives. 

It  is  said  that  we  should  not  be  what  we  aret  morally,  if  it 


554  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

had  not  been  for  the  action  upon  our  ancestors  of  law  and 
authoritative  custom.  This  is  true.  But  such  law  and  custon: 
are  themselves  the  products  of  rational  beings,  of  beings  with 
ideals.  Besides,  the  individuals  submitting  to  them  recognize 
an  interest  in  them,  set  a  value  on  these  forms  of  behavior  which 
require  them  to  restrict  their  inclination  to  pleasure. 

At  first,  the  moral  ideal  is  only  a  demand  unconscious  of  the 
full  nature  of  its  object,  but  it  is  different  from  the  desire  for 
pleasure.  At  its  lowest,  it  is  a  demand  for  some  well-being 
which  shall  be  common  to  the  individual  desiring  it  with  others ; 
and  only  as  such  a  demand  does  it  yield  those  institutions  of  the 
family,  the  tribe,  and  the  State,  which  further  determine  the 
morality  of  the  individual.  The  natural  development  of  insti- 
tutions, and  reflection  on  them  as  well  as  on  the  well-reputed 
habits  of  action  which  have  been  formed  in  their  maintenance 
and  as  their  effect,  help  to  influence  the  formation  of  a  more 
adequate  conception  of  the  end  or  demand.  An  ever-widening 
conception  of  the  range  of  persons  involved  results,  and  the  ideal 
of  a  universal  society  coextensive  with  all  mankind  develops. 

We  have  no  adequate  idea  of  the  perfect  life,  but  the  ideal 
is  the  perfection  of  the  whole  man  and  the  perfection  of  man 
in  society.  Such  a  life  must  be  determined  by  one  harmonious 
will, — a  will  of  all  which  is  the  will  of  each, — a  devoted  will. 
By  such  a  devoted  will  Green  means  nothing  abstract,  but  a 
whole  world  of  beneficent  activities,  which  the  devoted  will  shall 
sustain  and  coordinate.  Moreover,  he  holds  that  the  moral  value 
of  an  action  depends  on  the  motives  or  the  character  which  it 
represents,  assuming,  however,  that  the  truly  moral  motive  will 
always  produce  moral  acts. 

Green  exalts  the  self-sacrificing,  social  type  of  goodness,  the 
type  of  the  reformer,  and  in  this  gives  expression  to  the  spirit 
of  our  times.     But  he  seems  to  have  even  a  higher  regard  for 
the  saint,  for  the  religious  type  of  goodness,  for  the  medieva. 
type  of  perfection.     The  most  final  form  of  moral  endeavor,  h( 
tells  us,  is  a  spiritual  act  in  which  the  heart  is  lifted  up  to  God 
in  which  the  whole  inner  man  goes  forth  after  an  ideal  of  per- 
sonal holiness.     This  has  an  intrinsic  value,  not  derived  froir. 
any  result  beyond  itself  to  which  it  contributes.    Both  the  good 
will  (the  social  will)  and  this  spiritual  act  have  intrinsic  value: 


NEW  IDEALISM  555 

he  difference  is  that  the  practical  expressions  of  good  will  have 
Jso  value  as  means,  because  they  issue  in  ameliorations  of  hu- 
lan  society.  But,  after  all,  the  purpose  of  all  these  ameliora- 
ions  is  to  produce  such  a  holy  heart.  After  all,  the  supreme 
alue  for  man  is  man  himself  in  his  perfection.  Hence,  the 
Tactical  type  of  goodness  and  the  more  self-questioning  or  con- 
ciously  God-seeking  type  are  each  intrinsically  valuable,  be- 
ause  the  value  of  each  rests  on  character,  heart,  and  will. 
Neither  type  is  barren  of  effects,  only  the  effects  in  the  case 
f  the  reformer  are  more  overt  and  transient,  while  in  the  case 
f  the  saint  they  are  more  impalpable  and  immanent. 
The  truth  in  Green's  thought  is  this:  the  purpose  of  all  social 
evotion  and  reform  is,  after  all,  the  perfection  of  man  on  the 
piritual  side,  the  development  of  men  of  character  and  ideals, 
l-reen  expresses  the  idea  in  language  that  has  a  religious  tinge : 
e  speaks  of  holiness  as  a  lasting  mode  of  this  perfection;  of 
tie  spirit  of  self-abasement  before  the  ideal  of  holiness,  as  a 
tate  of  mind  having  the  highest  value.  The  final  purpose  of  all 
loral  endeavor  must  be  the  realization  of  an  attitude  of  the 
uman  soul,  of  some  form  of  noble  consciousness  in  human 
ersonalities.  Social  reform  is  a  good  thing,  but  social  reform 
nust  have  some  end  beyond  the  promotion  of  mere  physical 
omfort  and  material  satisfaction.  It  is  well  enough  to  feed 
nd  house  human  bodies,  but  the  paramount  question  will  always 
e :  What  kind  of  souls  are  to  dwell  in  these  bodies  T 

Among  modern  writers  on  ethics  who  have  been  influenced  by 
£ant  and  Green  as  well  as  by  Utilitarianism  (in  so  far  as  that  theory 
nds  the  criterion  of  moral  conduct  in  its  effect  on  human  welfare) 
re:  J.  S.  Mackenzie,  Manual  of  Ethics,  1892;  J.  H.  Muirhead,  Ek- 
lents  of  Ethics,  1892;  Rashdall,  Theory  of  Good  and  Evil,  1907, 
thics,  1913;  J.  Dewey,  Ethics  (with  J.  II.  Tufts),  1908.  (For  other 
ipresentatives  of  idealistic  ethics  see  Thilly,  Introduction  to  Etkia, 
lap.  vii.) 

The   most   subtle  and   best   known   of   contemporary    Eng- 
sh   idealistic   thinkers   is   F.   H.  Bradley    (bora 
846),    the    Zeno    of   modern    philosophy,    as    he 
as   been    called,    whose    metaphysical    system   is 
resented  in   its  maturest   form   in  Appearance  and  Reality. 

The  Presuppositions  of  Critical  History,  1874;  Ethical  Studin,  It  77 ; 
he  Principles  of  Logic,  2  vols.,  1883;  Appearance  and  Reality,  11  J3; 


556  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

articles  in  Mind.  On  Bradley  see  references  on  p.  550;  RashdallJ 
The  Metaphysic  of  Bradley;  articles  in  philosophical  journals;  H6ff-j 
ding,  Moderns  Philosophen.  Cf.  the  work  of  Bosanquet,  The  Principle! 
of  Individuality  and  Value,  1911. 

With  the  German  idealists  Bradley  agrees  that  metaphysics 
is  an  attempt  to  know  reality  as  against  mere  appearance;  orj 
the  study  of  first  principles  or  ultimate  truths;  or  the  effort) 
to  comprehend  the  universe,  not  simply  piecemeal  or  by  frag- 
ments, but  somehow  as  a  whole.    We  have  a  knowledge  of  the 
Absolute,  certain  and  real,  though  incomplete.     Since  man  has  ; 
an  instinctive  longing  to  reflect  on  ultimate  truth,  it  is  well  that 
the  attempt  to  think  about  and  comprehend  reality  be  as  thor-j 
ough  as  our  nature  permits.    With  Fichte,  Schelling,  Hegel,  and 
the  Romanticists  he  regards  the  discursive  understanding  as  in-  > 
competent  to  understand  the  world.    A  critical  examination  of 
a  number  of  ways  of  regarding  reality  (the  notions  of  primary 
and  secondary  qualities,  substantive  and  adjective  relation  and 
quality,  space  and  time,  motion  and  change,  causation  and  ac- 
tivity, the  self,  things-in-themselves)  reaches  the  negative  result 
that  they  are  all  self -contradictory :  we  can  discover  no  unity 
in  phenomena;  everything  turns  out  to  be  mere  appearance. 
Appearances,  however,  exist,  that  is  absolutely  certain.     But 
though  appearance  is  inconsistent  with  itself,  and  cannot,  there- 
fore, be  true  of  the  real,  it  cannot  be  divorced  from  reality.    The 
question  arises,  What  is  the  nature  of  this  reality  to  which  ap- 
pearances belong?     Can  we  say  more  of  it  than  that  it  exists f 
Is  it  merely  Kant's  thing-in-itself  or  Spencer's  Unknowable!? 
Bradley   conceives  ultimate  reality  as  a  self-consistent  whole 
embracing  all  differences  in  an  inclusive  harmony:  the  bewilder- 
ing mass  of  phenomenal  diversity  must  be  at  unity  and  self- 
consistent;  for  it  cannot  be  elsewhere  than  in  reality.     More- 
over, its  contents  are  nothing  but  sentient  experience;  feeling, 
thought,  and  volition  are  all  the  material  of  existence,  and  the  re 
is  no  other  material  actual  or  possible.    It  is  impossible  for  -is; 
finite  beings  to  construct  this  absolute  life  in  its  detail,  to  have1 
the  specific  experience  in  which  it  consists;  but  we  can  gain  uni 
idea  of  its  main  features  because  these  are  within  our  OTHI 
experience,  and  the  idea  of  their  combination  is,  therefore,  ini 
the  abstract,  quite  intelligible  to  us. 


NEW  IDEALISM  557 

I  At  this  point,  Bradley  joins  the  ranks  of  those  who  seek  foi 
lelp,  in  solving  the  world-problem,  in  other  functions  of  thi 
mind  than  intellect.  He  does  not,  however,  appeal 
p  mystical  intuitions  to  bring  him  face  to  face  Immediate 
Irith  the  Absolute,  but  finds  in  ordinary  human 
Ixperience  a  hint  of  the  meaning  of  ultimate  real- 
ity. We  have  the  experience  of  a  whole  in  mere  feeling  or 
pimediate  presentation.  This  whole  contains  diversity,  and,  on 
me  other  hand,  is  a  harmony.  It  serves  to  suggest  to  us  the 
reneral  idea  of  a  total  experience,  where  will  and  thought  and 
eeling  may  all  once  more  be  one.  We  can  form  the  general 
dea  of  an  absolute  experience  in  which  phenomenal  distinctions 
,re  merged.  Hence,  Bradley  concludes,  we  have  real  knowledge 
the  Absolute,  positive  knowledge  built  on  experience,  and 
nevitable  when  we  think  consistently. 

Mere  thinking,  therefore,  will  not  bring  us  into  the  promised 
and.  Thought  is  relational  and  discursive:  it  shows  a  dissec- 
;ion  and  never  an  actual  life.  If  it  ceases  to  be  this,  it  commits 
suicide ;  and  yet  if  it  remains  this,  how  does  it  contain  immediate 
)resentation  ?  Thought  aims  to  reach  an  immediate,  self- 
lependent,  all-inclusive  individuality,  but  in  reaching  it,  it  would 
ose  its  own  character.  Bradley  tries  to  solve  this  dilemma  by 
showing  that  it  can  form  the  idea  of  an  apprehension,  some- 
hing  like  feeling  in  directness,  which  contains  all  the  character 
sought  by  its  relational  efforts  and  so  satisfies  it.  Merely  imme- 
diate feeling  will  tell  us  nothing  of  the  Absolute,  nor  will  mere 
discursive  relational  thinking ;  but  we  can  understand  the  Abso- 
ute  if  we  try  to  come  as  near  to  immediate  feeling  or  apprehen- 
sion as  we  can,  that  is,  if  we  form  an  idea  of  it.  The  entire 
reality  will  be  merely  the  object  thought  out  in  such  a  way  that 
mere  thinking  is  absorbed.  This  same  reality  will  be  feeling 
that  is  satisfied  completely.  In  both  these  cases,  we  possess  the 
immediacy  and  strength  of  simple  apprehension,  and  are  not 
forced  by  its  inconsistencies  to  pass  into  the  infinite  process, 
that  is,  to  keep  on  relating  and  dissecting  without  ever  seeing 
things  whole.  So,  too,  volition,  if  willed  out,  becomes  our  Abso- 
lute; for  here,  too,  we  reach  the  identity  of  idea  and  reality, 
or  unity  in  diversity.  It  is  true,  we  cannot  imagine  how  in 
detail  the  outline  of  such  an  immediate  experience  is  filled  up, 


558  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

but  we  can  say  that  it  is  real  and  that  it  unites  certain 
general  characters  within  the  living  system  of  one  undivided 
apprehension. 

The  Absolute,  then,  is  knowable  in  the  way  described.  It  u 
a  harmonious  system,  not  the  sum  of  things;  it  is  the  unity  it 
which  all  things  coming  together  are  transmuted 
3  in  which  they  are  changed  all  alike,  though  noi 
changed  equally.  In  this  unity,  relations  of  isolation  and  hos- 
tility are  affirmed  and  absorbed.  Error,  ugliness,  and  evil  art 
transmuted  and  absorbed  in  it;  they  are  all  owned  by  and  al 
essentially  contribute  to  the  wealth  of  the  Absolute.  There  ij 
not  one  mode  to  which  the  others  belong  as  its  adjectives,  01 
into  which  they  can  be  resolved.  Nature,  taken  in  the  sense  oj 
a  bare  skeleton  of  primary  quality,  is  dead,  and  cannot  be  callec 
either  beautiful  or  adorable.  So  understood,  it  has  but  littlt 
reality,  it  is  an  ideal  construction  required  by  science,  and  r 
is  a  necessary  working  fiction.  We  must  add  to  our  conceptior 
of  nature  the  secondary  qualities,  joys  and  sorrows,  affections 
the  emotions  excited  by  it,  beauty.  All  the  special  sciences 
physical  as  well  as  mental,  deal  with  fictions  only :  soul  and  bod? 
are  both  abstractions,  appearances,  or  special  aspects  of  reality 
and  both  idealism  and  materialism  are  half-truths. 

Reality  is  one  experience.  We  can  discover  nothing  in  it  thai 
is  not  either  feeling  or  thought  or  will  or  emotion  or  something 
else  of  the  kind.  Does  not  solipsism  follow  from  this?  No,  say 
Bradley,  finite  experience  never,  in  any  of  its  forms,  is  shut  ii 
by  a  wall.  In  our  first  immediate  experience  the  Whole  Realit; 
is  present;  the  Whole,  as  a  substantive,  is  present  in  each  of  it 
adjectives.  A  finite  experience  already  partially  is  the  universe 
The  total  universe,  present  imperfectly  in  finite .  experience 
would,  if  completed,  be  merely  the  completion  of  this  experience 
What  I  experience  is  in  one  aspect  the  state  of  myself  or  or 
soul.  But  it  cannot  be  the  mere  adjective  of  my  self.  The  »elJ 
is  an  outgrowth  of  reality,  a  phenomenon;  how  then  can  exs 
perience  be  its  product? 

Reality,  then,  is  not  merely  my  experience;  nor  does  it  con 
sist  of  souls  or  selves.  The  Absolute  is  not  personal  because 
it  is  more,  it  is  superpersonal.  It  is  personal  in  the  sense  thai 
it  is  nothing  but  experience,  that  it  contains  all  the  highest 


NEW  IDEALISM  559 

that  we  can  possibly  know  and  feel,  and  is  a  unity  in  which 
the  details  are  utterly  pervaded  and  embraced.  But  the  term 
is  misleading;  the  Absolute  stands  above,  and  not  below  its 
internal  distinctions,  includes  them  as  elements  of  its  fullness. 

The  Absolute  has  no  history  of  its  own,  though  it  contains 
histories  without  number.  They  are  but  partial  aspects  in  the 
region  of  temporal  appearance.  To  deny  progress  to  the  uni- 
verse, leaves  morality  where  it  was.  As  to  immortality,  a  per- 
sonal continuance  is  possible,  and  it  is  but  little  more.  Still, 
if  any  one  can  believe  in  it  and  finds  himself  sustained  by  that 
belief, — after  all  it  is  possible.  But  it  is  better  to  be  quit  of 
both  fear  and  hope  than  to  lapse  back  into  any  form  of  degrad- 
ing superstition. 

Truth  is  one  aspect  of  experience.  So  far  as  it  is  absolute, 
it  does  give  the  general  type  and  character  of  all  that  possibly 
can  be  true  and  real.  And  the  universe  in  this  general  char- 
acter is  known  completely.  It  is  not  known,  and  never  can  be 
mown,  in  all  its  details.  It  is  not  known,  and  it  never,  as  a 
whole,  can  be  known,  in  such  a  sense  that  knowledge  would  be 
the  same  as  experience  or  reality.  Truth  is  the  whole  world 
in  one  aspect,  an  aspect  supreme  in  philosophy,  and  yet  even  in 
philosophy  conscious  of  its  own  incompleteness. 

The  leader  of  the  idealistic  school  in  the  United  States  is 
Josiah  Royce  (born  1855),  professor  at  Harvard  University, 
a  man  of  broad  scholarship,  speculative  grasp,  and  R  e 
literary  taste.  Our  world  of  common  sense,  ac- 
cording to  his  teaching,  has  no  fact  in  it  which  we  cannot  inter- 
pret in  terms  of  ideas,  so  that  this  world  is  throughout  such 
stuff  as  ideas  are  made  of.  All  the  reality  that  we  can  attribute 
to  it,  in  so  far  as  we  know  and  can  tell  what  we  mean  thereby, 
becomes  an  ideal.  There  is,  in  fact,  a  certain  system  of  ideas 
forced  upon  us  by  experience,  which  we  have  to  use  as  the  guide 
for  our  conduct.  We  call  it  the  world  of  matter.  But  is  there 
not  something  yonder  that  corresponds  in  fact  to  this  series  of 
experiences  in  us?  Yes,  but  it  is  itself  a  system  of  ideas  out- 
side of  our  minds  but  not  outside  of  every  mind.  If  my  world 
yonder  is  anything  knowable  at  all,  it  must  be  in  and  for  itielf 
essentially  a  mental  world.  It  exists  in  and  for  a  standard,  a 


560  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

universal  mind,  whose  system  of  ideas  simply  constitutes  the 
world.  Minds  I  can  understand  because  I  am  myself  a  mind. 
An  existence  that  has  no  mental  attribute  is  to  me  wholly 
opaque.  Either  a  mind  yonder  or  else  the  unknowable,  that  is 
your  choice.  But  nothing  absolutely  unknowable  can  exist ;  the 
notion  of  it  is  nonsense.  Everything  knowable  is  an  idea,  the 
content  of  some  mind.  If  capable  of  being  known  by  a  mind, 
this  essence  is  then  already  essentially  ideal  and  mental.  The 
real  world  must  be  a  mind  or  a  group  of  minds. 

But  how  do  I  ever  reach  those  ideas  of  the  minds  beyond 
me?  In  one  sense  you  never  do  or  can  get  beyond  your  own 
ideas,  nor  ought  you  to  wish  to  do  so,  because  all  those  other 
minds  that  constitute  your  outer  and  real  world  are  in  essence 
one  with  your  own  self.  The  whole  world  is  essentially  one 
world,  and  so  it  is  essentially  the  world  of  one  self  and  That  art 
Thou.  The  self  that  means  the  object  is  identical  with  the 
larger  self  that  possesses  the  object,  just  as  when  you  seek  a, 
lost  idea.  This  deeper  self  is  the  self  that  knows  in  unity  all 
truth.  There  is  then  but  one  self,  organically,  reflectively,  con- 
sciously inclusive  of  all  selves,  and  so  of  all  truth.  It  is  the 
Logos,  problem-solver,  all-knower.  Absolutely  the  .only  thing 
sure  from  the  first  about  this  world  is  that  it  is  intelligent, 
rational,  orderly,  essentially  comprehensible,  so  that  all  its  prob- 
lems are  somehow  solved,  all  its  darkest  mysteries  are  known 
to  the  Supreme  Self.  This  Self  infinitely  and  reflectively  tran- 
scends our  consciousness,  and,  therefore,  since  it  includes  usy, 
it  is  at  the  very  least  a  person,  and  more  definitely  conscious 
than  we  are ;  for  what  it  possesses  is  self -reflecting  knowledge, 
and  what  is  knowledge  aware  of  itself,  but  consciousness?  The1 
natural  and  spiritual  orders,  the  physical  and  the  moral  orders, 
the  divine  and  the  human,  the  fatal  and  the  free,  may,  accord- 
ing to  Royce,  be  reconciled  on  Kant's  doctrine  of  the  tran- 
scendental or  extra-temporal  freedom  and  the  temporal  necessity 
of  all  our  actions. 

This  account  of  Royce's  philosophy  is  taken  from  his  Spirit 
of  Modern  Philosophy.  In  his  large  systematic  work,  The  Woi  Id 
and  the  Individual,  the  theory  is  worked  out  with  great  detiili 
and  applied  to  the  interpretation  of  the  facts  of  nature  and  off 
man.  Partly  owing  to  the  nature  of  the  problems  with  whicha 


NEW  IDEALISM  561 

he  is  dealing,  and  partly,  perhaps,  in  order  to  ward  off  the 
criticism  of  exaggerating  the  intellectualistic  element,  Royce 
places  greater  emphasis  upon  the  volitional  and  purposive  side 
of  experience  in  these  later  volumes  than  in  the  earlier  presen- 
tations of  his  views.  "  To  be  means  simply  to  express,  to  em- 
body the  complete  internal  meaning  of  a  certain  absolute  system 
of  ideas, — a  system,  moreover,  which  is  genuinely  implied  in 
the  true  internal  meaning  or  purpose  of  every  finite  form  of  the 
idea,  however  fragmentary."  The  final  form  of  the  idea,  the 
"  final  object  sought  when  we  seek  Being,  is  (1)  a  complete  ex- 
pression of  the  internal  meaning  of  the  finite  idea  with  which, 
in  any  case,  we  start  our  quest;  (2)  a  complete  fulfilment  of 
the  will  or  purpose  partially  embodied  in  this  idea;  (3)  an  indi- 
vidual life  for  which  no  other  can  be  substituted." 

In  other  words,  Royce  seeks  to  escape  the  charge  of  intellec- 
tualism  by  emphasizing  the  active  aspect  of  ideas,  and  the  charge 
of  mysticism,  by  emphasizing  the  place  of  the  individual  self  in 
the  absolute  self. 

In  his  Philosophy  of  Loyalty,  an  eloquent  presentation  of  his 
ethical  theory,  Royce  deduces  the  idealistic  world-view  from 
the  basal  moral  principle,  loyalty  to  loyalty,  that  is,  loyalty  to 
a  cause  that  makes  possible  the  greatest  amount  of  loyalty  or 
devotion  to  a  cause.  My  causes  must  form  a  system,  they  must 
constitute  a  single  cause,  a  life  of  loyalty ;  they  must  make  uni- 
versal loyalty  possible.  Loyalty,  therefore,  implies  faith  in  a 
universal  cause,  in  a  highest  good,  in  a  highest  spiritual  value. 
If  this  principle  is  to  have  any  meaning,  if  it  is  no  mere  illu- 
sion, there  must  be  a  spiritual  unity,  a  unity  in  which  all  values 
are  preserved.  The  principle  of  loyalty  is  not  only  a  guide  of 
life,  it  shows  us  or  reveals  to  us  an  eternal  all-embracing  unity 
of  spiritual  life,  a  being  that  preserves  and  upholds  truth  and 
goodness.  We  have  here  a  moral  argument  for  the  existence  of 
God,  similar  to  that  presented  in  Kant's  Critique  of  Practical 
Reason. 

Works:  The  Religious  Aspects  of  Philosophy,  1885;  The  Spirit  of 
Modern  Philosophy,  1892;  The  Conception  of  God,  1897;  Studies  of 
Good  and  Evil,  1898;  The  World  and  the  Individual,  2  vols.,  1900.  1901; 
Outlines  of  Psychology,  1902;  Herbert  Spencer,  1904;  The  Philot- 
ophy  of  Loyalty,  1908 ;  W.  James  and  Other  Essays,  1911 ;  The  Source 
tf  Religious  Insight,  1912;  The  Problem  of  Christianity,  2  vols.,  1913, 


562  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Among  American  writers  who  have  been  influenced  by  Kant, 
the  post-Kantians,  Lotze,  or  kindred  thinkers  of  Germany,  Eng- 
land, and  France,  either  through  an  independent  study  of  these; 
philosophers  or  through  American  teachers  of  philosophy,  wel 
mention:  W.  T.  Harris  (+1909),  J.  Watson,  G.  T.  Ladd,  G.  HJ 
Howison,  A.  T.  Ormond,  B.  P.  Bowne  (+  1910),  J.  E.  Creighton, 
J.  G.  Hibben,  E.  Albee,  Mary  W.  Calkins,  R.  M.  Wenley,  HJ 
Gardiner,  C.  B.  Strong,  J.  H.  Tufts,  A.  K.  Rogers,  C.  M.  Bake-; 
well,  A.  0.  Lovejoy,  J.  A.  Leighton,  and  W.  E.  Hocking.  The 
younger  members  of  this  group  (notably  Creighton,  Bake  well, 
Lovejoy,  Albee),  in  defending  idealism  against  the  criticisms  of 
pragmatism  and  neo-realism,  have  developed  this  doctrine  in  such 
a  way  as  to  include  what  they  regard  as  the  valid  elements  inj 
these  opposing  schools. 


CONTEMPORARY  REACTION  AGAINST  RATIONALISM 
AND  IDEALISM 

We  find  in  present-day  thought  many  signs  of  dissatisfaction, 
not  only  with  idealism,  which  has  long  been  the  predominant  sys- 
tem, but  also  with  the  methods  and  results  of  ra-i 
JjJ6^  .  tionalistic  science  and  philosophy  in  general,  bothi 
of  which,  so  it  is  held,  destroy  the  freedom  of  the! 
individual  and  leave  no  room  for  human  values.  Whether,  with, 
natural-scientific  mechanism,  we  proceed  from  moving  particles* 
of  matter  or,  with  objective  idealism,  from  logical  concepts  or 
universal  purposes,  human  life  is  said  to  be  degraded  to  a  me:re' 
epiphenomenon.  Many  attempts  have  been  made  in  the  history 
of  speculation  to  escape  the  consequences  to  which  human  thin'i-r 
ing  seemed  to  lead, — attempts  which  are  being  renewed  to-dry 
in  slightly  varying  forms.  The  opposition  to  rationalism, 
however,  is  not  confined  to  those  whose  chief  concern  is  to  save 
the  individual  from  the  determinism  of  both  naturalism  ai.d 
spiritualism,  but  exists  in  the  ranks  of  natural  science  itself, 
among  thinkers  influenced  in  their  theory  of  knowledge  by  Hurie 
and  the  positivists.  We  may  distinguish  several  lines  of  thoug  it 
in  the  contemporary  reaction  against  the  traditional  school,  sor  i& 
of  which,  it  is  to  be  noted,  are  followed  by  men  of  widely  diffe  r- 


EACTION  AGAINST  RATIONALISM  AND  IDEALISM    563 

Qt  temperaments, — by  skeptics,  faith-philosophers,  and  rational- 
jts  alike.    According  to  some,  the  human  intellect  is  unable  to 
olve  the  world-riddle:  metaphysics  is  impossible.     They  hold 
ither  that  knowledge  is  limited  to  the  study  and  description  of 
he  facts  of  experience  or  that  it  is  a  mere  instrument  in  the  serv- 
of  the  will  to  live  or  that  its  conclusions, — even  in  the  field  of 
atural  science, — are  mere  conventions,  or  symbols,  or  approxi- 
lations  to  the  truth ;  or  they  accept  every  one  of  these  positions, 
ther  thinkers,  agreeing  that  the  intellect  or  the  discursive  under- 
tanding  cannot  comprehend  the  meaning  of  reality,  discover  a 
urer  source  of  knowledge  in  other  phases  or  functions  of  the 
uman  soul, — in  feeling,  belief,  immediate  or  pure  experience, 
rill,  or  intuition, — and  seek  in  them  a  way  of  escape  from  skepti- 
sm,  mechanism,  determinism,  atheism,  and  all  the  cheerless 
octrines  against  which  the  individual  revolts.    This  movement 
j  not  new  in  philosophy,  as  we  have  seen ;  indeed,  we  find  anti- 
itellectualistic  or  anti-rationalistic  tendencies  within  the  ranks 
f  the  idealistic  school  itself, — in  Fichte,  Schelling,  Hegel,  Lotze, 
lucken,  Windelband,  Miinsterberg,  Renouvier,  Bradley; — and 
it  is  in  this  school  that  the  leading  innovators  of  the  day  have 
been  reared  and  with  which  they  continue  to  have  much  in  com- 
mon.    Another  group  of  men,  who  resemble  Herbart  in  many 
respects,  defend  rational  intelligence  against  its  scientific  and 
philosophical    critics,    but   oppose    the    organic    conception    of 
idealism,   its  monism,  and  its  alleged  subjectivism,  regarding 
analysis   as  the   true   method  of  a  scientific   philosophy,  and 
pluralism  and  realism  as  its  logical  results.    There  are  also  those 
who  lay  the  chief  stress  of  their  opposition  on  the  spiritualistic 
phase  of  the  traditional  views  and  return  to  a  natural  realism, 
conceiving  things  not  as  the  appearances  of  a  subjective  or  ob- 
jective mind,  but  as  wholly  independent  of  mind,  and  mind  as 
something  that  has  arisen  in  the  process  of  the  evolution  of  the 
things  themselves. 

We  shall  consider  some  of  the  contemporary  writers  who  give 
expression  to  the  spirit  of  discontent  which  characterizes  latter- 
day  philosophical  thought. 

Merz,  History  of  European  Thought  in  the  Nineteenth  Centur 
vols  ;   Perry,  Present  Philosophical  Tendencies;  Thilly,  Romanticiim 
and  Rationalism.  Phil.  Rev.,  March.  1913,  and  The  Characteristic*  of  the 


564  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Present  Age,  Hibbert  Journal,  October,  1911;  van  Becalaire,  La  phi-\ 
losophie  en  Amerique;  Lyman,  Theology  and  Human  Problems;] 
Walker,  Theories  of  Knowledge;  Fouillee,  La  pensee;  A.  Rey,  La  phi-\ 
losophie  moderne;  articles  on  contemporary  philosophy  by  Benrubi, 
Mackenzie,  Thilly,  Amendola,  Hb'ffding,  Calderon  in  Revue  de  meta-\ 
physique  et  de  morale,  September,  1908;  Chiappelli,  Les  tendences  vives\ 
de  la  philosophic  contemporaine,  in  Rev.  phil.,  March,  1910,  and  Dalla\ 
critica  al  nuovo  idealismo;  Berthelot,  Un  romanticisme  utilitairem 
Ruggiero,  La  filosofia  contemporanea;  Gaultier,  La  pensee  contem-\ 
poraine;  Goldstein,  Wandlungen  in  der  Philosophic  der  Gegenwart; 
Eucken,  Main  Currents  of  Modern  Thought;  Stein,  Philosophische 
Stromungen  der  Gegenwart;  Riehl,  Philosophic  der  Gegenwart; 
Windelband,  Die  philosophischen  Richtungen  der  Gegenwart,  in  Grosse 
Denker;  Hoffding,  Moderne  Philosophen  (in  French:  Philosophes  con- 
temporains),  and  Englische  Philosophic;  Baumann,  Deutsche  und  ausser- 
deutsche  Philosophic  der  letzten  Jahrzehnte;  Ueberweg-Heinze,  op.  cit., 
Part  III,  vol.  II;  Falckenberg,  Geschichte  der  neuern  Philosophief 
7th  ed. ;  W.  Caldwell,  Pragmatism  and  Idealism,  1913. 


71.  THE  NEW  POSITIVISTIC  THEORY  OF  KNOWLEDGE 

Ernst  Mach  (professor  of  physics  and  philosophy,  born  1838 ; 
Analysis  of  Sensations,  1886,  5th  ed.  1906,  Popular  Scientific 
Lectures,  4th  ed.  1910)  offers  a  theory  of  knowledge 
based  on  the  phenomenalism  of  Hume  and  the  posi- 
tivists :  the  world  consists  solely  of  our  sensations,  and  the  thing- 
in-itself  is  an  illusion.  Not  axioms  or  a  priori  truths,  but  im- 
mediate pure  experience  constitutes  the  basis  of  his  theory  of 
knowledge.  The  aim  of  science  is  the  complete  description  of 
facts,  that  is,  of  the  contents  of  our  consciousness ;  its  sole  busi- 
ness is  to  discover  the  connection  of  the  not-further-analyzable 
elements  of  sensation, — to  recognize  these  connections  instead  o:? 
seeking  to  explain  them  by  metaphysical  presuppositions.  The 
way  to  develop  a  universal  physical  phenomenology,  one  embrac- 
ing all  fields,  a  physics  free  from  all  hypotheses,  is  by  analogies. 
Science  begins  with  hypotheses,  but  these  are  mere  temporary 
expedients  to  enable  us  to  understand  the  facts,  a  kind  of  in- 
direct description,  and  are  gradually  replaced  by  direct  observa- 
tion, that  is,  verified  by  experience  or  the  appearance  of  sensa- 
tions. All  science  consists  in  a  schematic  reproduction  of  facts, 
in  thought.  It  would  be  futile  to  mirror  the  world  in  thought  i:: 
it  were  not  possible  to  find  something  relatively  constant  in  mani 
fold  change.  In  every  scientific  judgment  a  great  number  o:: 


NEW  POSITIVISTIC  THEORY  OF  KNOWLEDGE     565 

observations  are  embraced  or  compressed :  our  concepts  and  judg- 
ments are  abbreviated  thought-symbols  for  groups  of  sensations, 
a  kind  of  shorthand  method  of  expressing  the  facts.  This  is  the 
principle  of  the  economy  of  thought.  A  law  is  nothing  more 
than  a  comprehensive  and  condensed  statement  of  facts,  a  state- 
ment only  of  that  phase  of  the  facts  which  is  important  to  us. 
Matter  is  merely  a  uniform  complexus  of  sensations.  The  self, 
likewise,  is  a  group  of  sensations.  The  relatively  more  fixed  and 
constant  phase  of  the  sensation-complex  is  impressed  upon  the 
memory  and  experience  in  language  (body).  The  complex  of 
memories,  moods,  feelings  (connected  with  a  particular  body) 
which  is  called  the  ego,  is  another  relatively  constant  phase. 
Sensations  considered  as  dependent  on  my  body  constitute  the 
subject-matter  of  psj^chology;  the  same  sensations  considered 
as  dependent  on  other  bodies  form  the  subject-matter  of  physics. 
Bodies  do  not  produce  sensations,  but  complexes  of  sensations  con- 
stitute bodies.  The  world  does  not  consist  of  mysterious  things- 
in-themselves  that  produce,  in  interaction  with  the  ego,  other 
mysterious  things  called  sensations.  The  aim  of  science  is  to 
connect  the  less  constant,  not  yet  sufficiently  established  rela- 
tions with  the  more  constant,  established  ones. 

Although  this  theory  limits  knowledge  to  the  field  of  our 
sensations  and  is,  therefore,  opposed  to  metaphysics, — a  futile 
undertaking  that  merely  disturbs  the  economy  of  science, — Mach 
seeks  a  philosophical  basis  for  it  in  voluntarism.  Knowledge  is 
an  instrument  of  the  will,  the  result  of  the  needs  of  practical 
life  (pragmatism).  Thoughts  are  not  the  whole  of  life;  they 
are,  as  it  were,  fugitive  flashes  of  light,  intended  to  illuminate 
the  path  of  the  will.  We  need  a  world-view  that  will  bring 
us  into  some  sort  of  relation  with  the  environment:  in  order 
to  obtain  it  in  an  economic  manner,  we  create  science.  The  agree- 
ment of  thought  and  observation  is  a  means  of  adaptation 
and  selection.  The  notions  of  body  and  ego  are  mere  tempo- 
rary makeshifts  for  practical  orientation  in  the  world,  and  most 
be  given  up;  likewise  the  notions  of  atoms,  forces,  and  laws. 
Every  practical  and  intellectual  need  is  satisfied  as  soon  as  our 
thoughts  succeed  in  reproducing  the  sensible  facts.  We  are 
satisfied  when  our  thoughts  bring  before  us  the  totality  of  tht 
sense-data  which  belong  together,  so  that  they  almost  seem  to 


566  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

be  a  substitute  for  them.    Mach  speaks  of  an  impulse  to  ideal- 
ize, schematize,  and  complete  facts. 

The  empiric-critical  school,  of  which  R.  Avenarius  (1843-1896; 
Kritik  der  reinen  Erfahrung,  1888,  f.,  Der  menschliche  Welt- 
begriff,  1891)  is  the  founder,  follows  along  similar 
lines  pursued  by  Mach.  The  only  method  of 
knowledge  is  description  based  on  exact  perception.  Scientific 
philosophy  is  the  descriptive  determination  of  the  form  and  con- 
tent of  the  universal  notion  of  experience.  Pure  experience  is 
the  experience  common  to  all  possible  individual  experiences,  and 
the  business  of  knowledge  is  to  eliminate  the  illogical  individual 
elements.  We  are  approximating  to  such  a  pure  empirical  con- 
ception of  the  universe.  Originally,  all  men  had  the  same  notion 
of  the  world;  but  by  "  introjecting  "  into  experience  thought, 
feeling,  and  will,  by  splitting  it  up  into  outer  and  inner  experi- 
ence, into  subject  and  object,  reality  has  been  falsified.  By 
eliminating  "  introjection, "  we  restore  the  original  natural  view 
of  the  world:  pure  experience. 

Views  similar  to  those  of  Mach  are  expressed  by  James  Clerk  Max- 
well (1831-1879;  Scientific  Papers),  William  Clifford  (1845-1879;  See- 
ing and  Thinking,  1879,  Common  Sense  of  the  Exact  Sciences,  1885), 
Karl  Pearson  (born  1857;  Grammar  of  Science,  1892,  2d  ed.  1900),  and 
H.  Hertz  (1857-1894).  According  to  Henri  Poincare  (1857-1913;  La 
science  et  I'hypothese,  1902,  transl.,  La  valeur  de  la  science,  14th  ed., 
1906),  the  axioms  of  science  are  convenient  definitions  or  conventions; 
our  choice  among  all  the  possible  conventions  is  guided  by  experi- 
mental facts,  but  is  arbitrary  and  is  limited  only  by  the  necessity  of 
avoiding  all  contradiction. 

72.   PRAGMATISM 

William  James   (1842-1910)   was  influenced  in  his  thinkii 
by  his  biological  studies,  by  English  empiricism,  and  by  the  teach- 
ing   of   Charles   Renouvier.     It  was   Renouvier's 
masterly  advocacy  of  pluralism,  he  himself  tells  us. 
that  freed  him  from  the  monistic  superstition  under  which  he 
had  grown  up.     The  "  block-universe,"  the   rigoristic,   deter- 
ministic systems  of  both  materialistic  and  spiritualistic  monism 
did  not  satisfy  him:  "  if  everything,  man  included,  is  the  mere 
effect  of  the  primitive  nebula  or  the  infinite  substance,  whal 
becomes  of  moral  responsibility,  freedom  of  action,  individual 


PRAGMATISM  567 

Iffort,  and  aspiration ;  what,  indeed,  of  need,  uncertainty,  choice, 

lovelty,  and  strife?  "     Does  not  the  individual  become  a  mere 

luppet  in  the  hands  of  the  absolute  substance,  whether  con- 

leived  as  universal  matter  or  as  universal  mind?     Such  a  sys- 

|em  cannot  satisfy  all  the  demands  of  our  nature,  and  hence 

;annot  be  true.     The  test,  then,  of  a  theory,  of  a  belief,  of  a 

loctrine,  must  be  its  effect  on  us,  its  practical  consequences.    Thig 

s  the  pragmatic  test.     Always  ask  yourself  what  difference  it 

vill  make  in  your  experience  whether  you  accept  materialism  or 

piritualism,   determinism  or  free  will,  monism  or  pluralism, 

itheism  or  theism.     One  is  a  doctrine  of  despair,  the  other  a 

loctrine  of  hope.    "  On  pragmatic  principles,  if  the  hypothesis 

f  God  works  satisfactorily,  in  the  widest  sense  of  the  word,  it 

s  true/' 

The  test  of  truth,  then,  is  its  practical  consequences :  the  pos- 
session of  truth  is  not  an  end  in  itself,  but  only  a  preliminary 
neans  to  other  vital  satisfactions.  Knowledge  is  an  instrument ; 
t  is  for  the  sake  of  life,  life  not  for  the  sake  of  knowledge. 
Tames  enlarges  this  pragmatic  or  instrumental  conception  so  as 
,o  include  in  the  idea  of  practical  utility:  logical  consistency 
ind  verification.  True  ideas  are  those  that  we  can  assimilate, 
alidate,  corroborate,  and  verify.  Ideas  that  tell  us  which  of  the 
•ealities  to  expect  count  as  the  true  ideas.  You  can,  therefore, 
lay  of  truth  that  it  is  useful  because  it  is  true,  or  that  it  is 
me  because  it  is  useful.  "  Truth  in  science  is  what  gives  us 
-he  maximum  possible  sum  of  satisfactions,  taste  included,  but 
sonsistency  both  with  previous  truth  and  novel  fact  is  always 
Jie  most  imperious  claimant." 

Even  with  these  important  additions  to  the  pragmatic  formula, 
it  is  anti-intellectualistic  in  the  sense  that,  in  order  to  be  true, 
a  philosophy  must  satisfy  other  than  logical  demands.  And  the 
practical  moral  and  religious  demands  favor  pluralism,  freedom 
and  individualism,  spiritualism,  and  theism,  according  to  James. 
These  are  the  conceptions  in  which  the  will  believes  and  to 
save  which  our  pragmatist  repudiates  the  intellect  as  the  absolute 
judge  of  truth.  Still,  consistency  is  always  the  most  imperious 
claimant. 

Although  the  absolutistic  hypothesis  that  perfection  is  eternal, 
aboriginal,  and  most  real,  has  a  perfectly  definite  meaning  and 


568  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

works  religiously,  the  pluralistic  way  agrees  with  the  pragmati 
temper  best.    For  it  sets  definite  activities  at  work ;  a  pluralist! 
world  can  only  be  saved  piecemeal  and  de  facto  as  the  result  o 
the  behavior  of  a  lot  of  caches.    We  may  believe,  also,  that  ther 
is  a  higher  form  of  experience  extant  in  the  universe  than  ou 
human  experience ;  on  the  proofs  that  religious  experience  affords) 
we  may  well  believe  that  higher  powers  exist  and  are  at  work! 
to  save  the  world  on  ideal  lines  similar  to  our  own. 

James  reaches  the  same  results  from  another  side,  from  the 
side  of  radical  or  pure  empiricism,  which  opposes  both  the] 
classical  rationalism  and  the  classical  English  empiricism.  It  isi 
not  true  that  whatever  is  rational  is  real ;  whatever  is  experienced 
is  real.  Only,  we  must  take  experience  as  it  exists  before  it  has 
been  manipulated  by  conceptual  thinking, — experience  in  its 
purity  and  primitive  innocence, — if  we  would  reach  reality.  We 
must  go  behind  the  conceptual  function  altogether  and  look  to 
the  more  primitive  flux  of  the  sensational  life  for  reality's  true 
shape.  Philosophy  should  seek  this  kind  of  living  understanding 
of  the  movement  of  reality, — not  follow  science  in  vainly  patch- 
ing together  fragments  of  its  dead  results.  Philosophy  is  more  a 
matter  of  passionate  vision  than  of  logic,  logic  only  finding  rea- 
sons for  the  vision  afterwards. 

With  German  idealism  James  agrees  that  the  scientific  under- 
standing mutilates  reality,  and  he  agrees  with  it,  also,  in  the 
view  that  our  ordinary  sense-experience  does  not  reveal  it  in  its 
true  colors.  But,  not  unlike  Bradley,  he  puts  his  faith  in  a 
living  unsophisticated  human  experience.  Reality  is  pure  experi- 
ence independent  of  human  thinking;  it  is  something  very 
hard  to  find;  it  is  what  is  just  entering  into  experience  and 
yet  to  be  named,  or  else  it  is  some  imagined  aboriginal  presence 
in  experience,  before  any  belief  about  the  presence  has  arisen, 
before  any  human  conception  has  been  applied.  It  is  what  is 
absolutely  dumb  and  evanescent,  the  merely  ideal  limit  of  ou* 
minds.  We  may  glimpse  it,  but  we  never  grasp  it;  what  wo 
grasp  is  always  some  substitute  for  it  which  previous  human 
thinking  has  peptonized  and  cooked  for  our  consumption.  Yet, 
this  immediate  experience  is  a  unity  in  diversity;  the  unity  is  a:? 
original  as  the  diversity.  Empiricism  is,  therefore,  wrong  in 
saying  that  our  psychic  life  consists  of  a  multiplicity  of  inde- 


PRAGMATISM  569 

pendent  sensations,  and  rationalism  is  wrong  in  saying  that 
hese  are  combined  by  categories  in  the  unity  of  a  soul.  The 
lotion  of  a  combining  medium  called  soul  is  superfluous  because 
.here  are  no  independent  elements  to  combine.  Both  conceptions 
ire  abstractions.  Reality  is,  in  part,  the  flux  of  our  sensations, 
oming  we  know  not  whence;  partly,  the  relations  that  obtain 
)etween  our  sensations  or  between  their  copies  in  our  mind ;  and, 
tartly,  previous  truths.  Some  of  these  relations  are  mutable  and 
iccidental,  others  are  fixed  and  essential,  but  both  are  matters 
if  immediate  perception.  Relations,  categories,  are  matters  of 
lirect  experience,  not  different  from  the  things  or  phenomena: 
deas  and  things  are  "  consubstantial, "  made  of  the  same  stuff. 

James  seems  to  vacillate  between  two  views:  reality  is  pure 
ixperience,  experience  independent  of  all  thought,  to  which  the 
ife  of  the  infant  or  semi-comatose  person  approximates;  and 
reality  is  the  entire  field  of  the  adult  consciousness,  experience 
permeated  with  thought.  Perhaps  his  meaning  is  that  the  latter 
!orm  of  it  grows  out  of  the  former.  There  is  a  sensible  flux,  he 
;ells  us,  but  what  is  true  of  it  seems  from  first  to  last  largely 
a  matter  of  our  own  creation.  The  world  stands  really  malleable, 
waiting  to  receive  its  final  touches  at  our  hands.  Reality  is  not 
ready-made  and  complete  from  all  eternity,  but  still  in  the 
making,  unfinished,  growing  in  all  sort  of  places  where  thinking 
beings  are  at  work.  Truth  grows  up  inside  of  all  the  finite  ex- 
periences; they  lean  on  each  other,  but  the  whole  of  them,  if 
such  there  be,  leans  on  nothing.  Nothing  outside  of  the  flux 
secures  the  issue  of  it ;  it  can  hope  salvation  only  from  its  own 
intrinsic  promises  and  potencies.  Behind  the  bare  phenomenal 
facts  there  is  nothing,  no  thing-in-itself,  no  Absolute,  no  Un- 
knowable ;  it  is  absurd  to  attempt  to  explain  the  given  concrete 
reality  by  an  assumed  reality  of  which  we  can  form  no  idea 
except  through  symbols  drawn  from  our  experience  itself.  This 
sounds  like  subjective  idealism,  but  is  not  intended  as  such  by 
James,  who  never  doubted  the  existence  of  an  extra-mental 
world;  the  pure  original  experience  is  not  subjective,  but  ob- 
jective; it  is  the  primordial  stuff  which  grows  conscious. 

Radical  empiricism  makes  for  pluralism :  experience  shows  us 
multiplicity,  diversity,  opposition,  and  not  a  block-universe, 
not  the  completely  organized  harmonious  system  of  the  Absolo- 


570  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

tists  or  Monists,  in  which  all  differences  and  oppositions  are  recon- 
ciled.   Besides,  the  pluralistic  universe  satisfies  the  demands  of  i 
our  moral  nature,  which  the   absolutistic  universe   does  not : 
it  is  justified  by  the  pragmatic  method.     Indeed,  monism,  too,  1 
is  not  a  mere  doctrine  of  the  intellect ;  its  acceptance  depends  j 
on  its  consequences:  it  satisfies  the  aesthetic  and  mystical  irn-  : 
pulses  of  some  natures.    But  it  does  not  account  for  our  finite  i 
consciousness;  it  creates  a  problem  of  evil;  it  does  not  account  \ 
for  change;  and  it  is  fatalistic.    Pluralism  takes  perceptual  ex- 
perience at  its  face  value,  and  the  concrete  perceptual  flux, 
taken  just  as  it  comes,  offers  in  our  own  activity-situations 
perfectly  comprehensible  instances  of  causal  agency  or  free  will.  • 
There  is  room  for  change,  for  novelty,  for  the  unconditioned  \ 
in  the  world  (tychism  or  fortuitism).    And  pluralism  is  melioris-  \ 
tic :  the  world  may  be  saved  on  condition  that  its  parts  shall  do 
their  best.    The  melioristic  universe  is  conceived  after  a  social 
analogy,  as  a  pluralism  of  independent  powers.     It  will  suc- 
ceed just  in  proportion  as  more  of  these  work  for  its  success.    If 
none  work,  it  will  fail ;  if  each  does  his  best,  it  will  not  fail.    And 
in  such  a  world  man  is  free  to  risk  realizing  his  ideal. 

Theism  is  the  only  conception  of  God  that  will  satisfy  our 
emotional  and  volitional  nature.  God  is  a  part  of  the  universe, 
a  sympathetic  and  powerful  helper,  the  great  Companion,  a  con- 
scious, personal,  and  moral  being  of  the  same  nature  as  our- 
selves, with  whom  we  can  come  into  communion,  as  certain  ex- 
periences (sudden  conversions,  faith-cure)  show.  To  be  sure, 
this  theistic  hypothesis  cannot  be  completely  proved,  but  neither 
can  any  system  of  philosophy  be  proved;  every  one  of  them  is 
rooted  in  the  will  to  believe.  The  essence  of  faith  is  not  feeling 
or  intelligence,  but  will,  the  will  to  believe  what  cannot  b3 
scientifically  demonstrated  or  refuted. 

Works  of  James:  The  Principles  of  Psychology,  2  vols.,  1890;  Thi 
Will  to  Believe,  1897;  Talks  to  Teachers,  1899;  Varieties  of  Religious 
Experience,  1902;  Pragmatism,  1907;  The  Meaning  of  Truth,  1909; 
A  Pluralistic  Universe,  1909;  Some  Problems  of  Philosophy,  1910; 
Memories  and  Studies,  1911 ;  Essays  in  Radical  Empiricism,  1912. 

Flournoy,  The  Philosophy  of  W.  James,  transl. ;  Boutroux,  W.  Jamet , 
transl.  by  Henderson;  Royce,  W.  James  and  Other  Essays;  Pratl, 
What  is  Pragmatism?;  Schinz,  Anti-Pragmatism;  Murray,  Pragmatism; 
Hebert,  Le  pragmatisme;  article  on  "  Pragmatism  "  by  F.  C.  S.  Schiller 
in  the  Britannica;  many  articles  in  the  philosophical'  journals. 


PRAGMATISM  871 

John  Dewey  (born  1859)  is  no  less  radical  than  James  in  la 
pposition  to  the  old  philosophies.    He  does  not  tire  of  flouting 
;he  old  methods,  which  he  conceives  as  aiming  at  Dgwey 
•ealities  lying  behind  and  beyond  the  process  of 
lature  and  as  carrying  on  the  search  for  these  realities  by  means 
>f  rational  forms  transcending  ordinary  modes  of  perception 
and  inference.    Such  problems,  he  thinks,  have  no  real  meaning, 
and  are  solved  very  simply  by  evaporating.    He  protests  against 
setting  up  a  universe,  in  analogy  with  the  cognitive  side  of 
human  nature,  as  a  system  of  fixed  elements  in  fixed  relations, 
be  they  mechanical,  sensational,  or  conceptual,  and  making  all 
the  other  phases  of  man's  nature —beliefs,  aversions,  affections  — 
mere  epiphenomena,  appearances,  subjective  impressions  or 
fects  in  consciousness;  against  relegating  concrete  selves,  specif 
feeling  and  willing  beings  with  the  beliefs  in  which  they  declare 
themselves,  to  the  phenomenal;  and  against  a  world  m  ^ 
man's  strivings  are  already  eternally  fulfilled,  his  errors  already 
eternally  transcended,  his  partial  beliefs  already  eternally  c 
prehended,  in  which  need,  uncertainty,  choice,  novelty,  s 
have  no  place.    Reality  is  for  him,  the  evolutionist,  not  a  com- 
pletely  given,  ready-made,  fixed  system,  not  a  system  at  all,  b 
changing,  growing,  developing  things.    A  real  philosophy  i 
abandon  inquiry  after  absolute  origins  and  absolute  finalU 
order  to  explore  specific  values  and  specific  conditions  that 
erate  them.    The  sole  verifiable  and  fruitful  object  of  know  edge 
is  the  particular  set  of  changes  that  generate  the  object  of  study, 
together  with  the  consequences  that  flow  from  them. 
telligible  question  can  be  asked  about  what  is  assumed  to  he  c 
side,-about  the  whole  essence  back  of  special  change*  abo« 
an  intelligence  that  shaped  things  once  for  all,  or  abc 
ultimate  goal  of  good.    The  interesting  quest.ons  t 
tionistic  philosopher  are  not  the  old  questions  of  onto  ogy 
practical,  living,  moral,  and  social  question*:  how  spec.al 
sTrve  and  defeat  concrete  purposes,  how  J^^T"."? 
shaping  particular  intelligences,  how  to  reahze  the  di 
ments  of  justice  and  happiness  that  int.ll.ient  admuustraUon 
of  existent  conditions  may  beget  and  that  present  ca, 
stupidity  will  destroy  or  forego.    To  .deahze  and    at, 
universe  at  large  is  to  shift  a  burden  of  responsibly  upon  th« 


372  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

shoulders   of  the   transcendent.     Philosophy   must   become    a 
method  of  moral  and  political  diagnosis  and  prognosis; — thei 
world  is  in  the  making,  and  we  must  help  to  make  it. 

Such  a  new  philosophy  calls  for  a  revision  of  the  theory  of] 
thinking,  for  a  new  evolutionary  logic  which  frankly  starts  out! 
from  the  fact  of  thinking  as  inquiring  and  purely  external  ex-j 
istences  as  terms  in  inquiries.  The  revised  theory  of  thinking  will 
construe  validity,  objectivity,  truth,  and  the  test  and  system  of 
truth,  on  the  basis  of  what  they  actually  mean  and  do  within 
Vthe  inquiry-activity.  Dewey  sees  in  thinking  an  instrument  for 
the  removal  of  collisions  between  what  is  given  and  what  is 
wanted, — a  means  of  realizing  human  desire,  of  securing  an 
arrangement  of  things  which  means  satisfaction,  fulfilment, 
happiness.  Such  a  harmony  is  the  end  and  test  of  thinking :  suc- 
cess in  this  sense  is  the  end  and  test.  When  the  ideas,  views, 
conceptions,  hypotheses,  beliefs,  which  we  frame  succeed,  secure 
harmony,  adjustment,  we  call  them  true.  Successful  ideas  are 
true.  We  keep  on  transforming,  changing  our  ideas  until  they 
work,  that  is,  we  make  them  true,  verify  them.  The  effective 
working  of  an  idea,  its  success,  is  its  truth.  When  I  say  the 
idea  works,  it  is  the  same  as  saying  it  is  true.  Successful  work- 
ing is  the  essential  characteristic  of  a  true  idea.  The  success  of 
the  idea  is  not  the  cause  nor  the  evidence  of  its  truth,  but  is  its 
truth :  the  successful  idea  is  a  true  idea.  The  test  or  criterion  of 
truth  lies  in  the  harmonized  reality  effected  by  the  idea,  Wher- 
ever there  is  an  improved  or  tested  idea,  an  idea  which  has  made 
good,  there  is  a  concrete  existence  in  the  way  of  a  completed 
or  harmonized  situation.  We  must  not,  however,  separate  the 
achieved  existence  from  its  process.  When  it  is  taken  just  as 
given,  separated  from  its  process,  it  is  neither  truth  nor  a 
criterion  of  truth,  but  just  a  state  of  facts  like  any  other.  There 
are  cases  in  which  an  idea  ceases  to  exist  as  idea  just  as  soon 
as  it  is  made  true.  Scientific  ideas,  however,  like  the  law  of 
gravitation,  operate  in  many  other  inquiries  no  longer  as  mere 
ideas,  but  as  proved  ideas. 

Thinking  serves  human  purposes,  is  useful,  removes  collision, 
satisfies  desire;  and  its  utility,  its  teleology,  is  its  truth.  The 
human  will,  in  other  words,  instigates  thinking,  which  is  an  in- 
strument for  realizing  human  aims.  The  fixities  (atoms,  God) 


PRAGMATISM  573 

lave  existence  and  import  only  in  the  problems,  needs,  struggles, 
nd  instrumentalities  of  conscious  agents  and  patients.  We  have 
,  universe  in  which  uncertainty,  doubtfulness,  really  inhere, 
,nd  in  which  personal  attitudes  are  real. 

The  revision  of  the  theory  of  thinking  also  brings  the  prin- 
iple  of  belief  into  its  own.  Belief, — sheer  direct  unmitigated 
>ersonal  belief, — reappears  in  science  as  working-hypothesis. 
Beliefs  are  the  most  natural  and  most  metaphysical  of  all  things ; 
:nowledge  is  the  human  and  practical  outgrowth  of  belief; 
:nowledge  is  an  organized  technique  for  working  out  the  im- 
plications and  interrelations  of  beliefs,  and  for  directing  their 
'ormation  and  employment.  Beliefs,  therefore,  modify  and 
hape  reality;  and  empirical  conscious  beings  genuinely  deter- 
nine  existences.  If  this  is  so,  there  is  no  need  of  fear  that 
natural  sciences  are  going  to  encroach  upon  and  destroy  our 
spiritual  values,  because  we  can  always  translate  our  values 
(social  and  political)  into  existences  (institutions).  The  world 
in  which  Dewey  is  interested  is  the  practical  social  world  of 
living,  working  individuals. 

The  world  is  in  the  making  and  will  always  be  in  the  making, — 
we  shape  it  to  our  ends; — and  in  this  process  the  thinking  and 
belief  of  conscious  personal  beings  play  an  active  part.  It  is  to 
be  remembered  that  knowing  is  not  the  sole  and  genuine  mode 
of  experiencing  for  Dewey.  Things, — anything,  everything,— 
are  what  they  are  experienced  as  being,  and  every  experience 
is  some  thing.  Things  are  experienced  as  known,  but  they 
are  also  experienced  aesthetically,  morally,  economically,  and 
technologically ;  hence  to  give  a  just  account  of  anything  is  to 
tell  what  that  thing  is  experienced  as.  This  is  the  fundamental 
postulate  of  immediate  empiricism.  If  you  want  to  find  out  what 
any  philosophical  term, — subjective,  objective,  physical,  mental, 
cosmic,  cause,  substance,  purpose,  activity,  evil,  being,  quan- 
tity,  means,  go  to  experience  and  see  what  it  is  experienced 

as.  The  individual  is  not  merely  a  knower,  but  an  emotional, 
impulsive,  willing  being ;  the  reflective  attitude  is  evoked  by  the 
will,  the  basal  or  primal  side  of  self. 

Works  of  Dewey:  Psychology,  1886;  Study  of  Ethics,  1891;  Studies 
in  Logical  Theory  (with  his  pupils), '1903,  2d  ed.,  1909;  Ethics  (with 
J  H  Tufts).  1909;  Influence  of  Darwin  on  Philosophy,  and  Other 


574  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Essays,  1910;  The  School  and  Society,  1899;  and  many  articles  in 
philosophical  journals. 

Other  pragmatists  are:  F.  C.  S.  Schiller  (Studies  in  Humanism,  1907 
Personal  Idealism,  with  Sturt  and  others,  1902,  Plato  or  Protagoras 
1908,  Formal  Logic,  1912) ;  H.  Sturt  (Personal  Idealism,  1902,  Idola 
theatri,  1906) ;  A.  W.  Moore  (Pragmatism  and  its  Critics,  1910) ;  B 
Bawden  (Principles  of  Pragmatism,  1910) ;  Father  Tyrrell  (Lex  orandi 
1903,  Lex  credendi,  1906) ;  J.  E.  Boodin,  Truth  and  Eeality,  1912;  G 
Blondel  (L'action,  1893) ;  W.  Jerusalem  (Introduction  to  Philosophy 
5th  ed.,  1910,  transl.) ;  H.  Vaihinger  (Die  Philosophie  des  Als  Ob 
1911) ;  G.  Jaboby  (Der  Pragmatismus,  1909) ;  Papini  (Introduzione  a 
pragmatismo,  1907,  in  "  Leonardo  ").  See  also  article  by  C.  S.  Peirce  in 
Popular  Science  Monthly,  January,  1878. 

The  protest  against  our  traditional  conceptions  reaches  a 
climax  in  the  teaching  of  the  German  individualist  Friedrich 
Nietzsche  (1844-1900),  who,  although  he  wrote  be 
fore  the  appearance  of  American  pragmatism,  may 
be  regarded  as  the  enfant  terrible  of  the  whole  movement  of  dis- 
content. He  not  only  antagonizes  the  old  theories  and  methods, 
but  sweeps  away  the  old  values  and  condemns  the  entire  trend  of 
our  modern  civilization,  considering  the  historical  attitude  as  the 
cause  of  the  weakness  of  our  age ;  strong,  reverent,  burden-bear- 
ing man  carries  too  many  heavy  strange  words  and  values  of  the 
past  on  his  back.  It  is  the  function  of  philosophy,  so  he  de- 
clares, to  transform  all  values  (Umwertung  aller  Werte),  to 
create  new  values,  new  ideals,  and  a  new  civilization. 

Nietzsche  accepts  the  fundamental  notion  of  Schopenhauer  that 
the  will  is  the  principle  of  existence,  but  this  will  he  conceives 
not  merely  as  the  will  to  live,  but  as  the  will  for  power:  life 
is  essentially  a  striving  for  a  surplus  of  power,  and  this  exuberant 
instinct  is  good :  Alles  Gute  ist  Instinkt.  Upon  this  idea  he  bases 
his  estimate  of  the  intellect, — of  knowledge,  science,  philosophy, 
and  truth.  The  mind  or  intellect  is  merely  an  instrument  in 
the  hands  of  instinct,  of  the  will  for  life  and  power;  it  is  the 
11  little  reason,"  created  by  the  body;  the  body  and  its  instinc:s 
are  the  "  big  reason."  "  There  is  more  reason  in  your  body  than 
in  your  wisest  wisdom."  Knowledge  has  value  only  in  so  far  i* 
it  preserves  and  promotes  life,  or  preserves  and  develops  tie 
species;  hence,  illusion  is  as  necessary  as  truth.  To  put  truth 
above  error  and  illusion,  to  love  truth  for  its  own  sake  instead  :>f 
as  a  means  of  life,  is  turning  things  upside  down,  is  a  diseased 


PRAGMATISM  575 

istinct.  Indeed,  this  ideal  of  truth  for  the  truth's  sake  is  only 
lother  form  of  asceticism:  the  denial  or  negation  of  life  for 
jmething  else. 

Besides,  Nietzsche  goes  on  to  tell  us,  there  is  no  such  thing 
j  universal  truth.  The  propositions  which  have  been  offered 
3  such  are  errors.  Thinking  is  really  inaccurate  perception: 

looks  for  similarities  and  ignores  differences,  thus  producing 

false  picture  of  reality.  There  is  nothing  permanent,  no  sub- 
tance,  no  universal  causal  nexus,  no  purpose  in  nature,  no 
efinite  goal ;  the  universe  does  not  care  for  our  happiness  or  our 
lorality,  and  there  is  no  divine  power  outside  of  it  that  can 
elp  us.  Knowledge  is  a  tool  for  power:  utility  for  preservation 
3  the  motive  behind  the  development  of  the  organs  of  knowl- 
dge.  We  arrange  the  world  in  our  thoughts  in  such  a  way  as  to 
lake  our  existence  possible,  hence  we  believe  in  something 
>ermanent  and  regularly  recurring.  We  reduce  the  confused 
>lurality  of  experiences  Offered  us,  to  a  rational  and  man- 
igeable  scheme  by  means/bf  formulas  and  signs  which  we  invent ; 
lie  purpose  being  to  deceive  ourselves  in  a  useful  way. 
;his  sense  the  will  for  truth  is  the  will  to  master  the  plurality  of 
lensations— to  string  the  phenomena  on  certain  categoric 
BLence,  logic  and  the  categories  of  reason  are  simply  means 
>f  arranging  the  world  for  utility-purposes,  of  arranging 
;hat  we  can  handle  it.  But  the  philosophers  have  made  the  mis- 

ake  of  regarding  these  categories,  these  formulas,  these  han 
forms,  as  criteria  of  truth,  as  criteria  of  reality;  they  I 
naively  made  this  human  way  of  looking  at  things  for  the  J 
of  preservation,-this  anthropocentric  idiosyncrasy- 
ure  of  things,  the  standard  of  the  "  real  "  and  "  unreal, 
in  this  way  it  came  to  pass  that  the  world  was  divided  into 
real  world  and  a  seeming  world,  and  that  the  very  world  to  live 
in  which  man  had  invented  his  reason,-this  world  of  change, 
becoming,   plurality,   opposition,   contradiction    war,-was  c 
credited  and  calumniated;  that  it,  the  real  world,  was  called 
world  of  semblance,  a  mere  appearance,  a  false  world,  and 
the  invented  fictitious  world,  the  alleged  world  of  permanence, 
the  unchanging,  supersensuous  world,  the  false  world,  was 
throned  as  the  true  world. 
All  we  know  directly  is  the  world  of  our  desires  and  instmcte; 


576  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

and  all  our  instincts  may  be  reduced  to  the  fundamental 
stinct, — the  will  for  power.  Every  living  being  strives  to 
crease  its  power  by  vanquishing  other  beings ;  that  is  the  law  of 
life.  The  goal  is  the  creation  of  supermen,  of  a  higher  type,  of  a 
race  of  heroes;  and  this  cannot  be  realized  without  struggle,  painj 
suffering,  and  injury  to  the  weak.  Hence,  war  is  preferable  to 

?ace;  indeed,  peace  is  a  symptom  of~3ealn^  We^are  not  here 
for  our  pleasure,  for  our  happiness;  we  are  not  here  for  any 
purpose,  but  being  here  we  must  hold  our  own,  assert  ourselves 
or  go  down.  Pity,  therefore,  which  Schopenhauer  had  made  the 
source  of  all  morality,  is  bad :  it  injures  him  that  gives  and  him 
that  takes ;  it  weakens  both  the  strong  and  the  weak,  it  saps  the 
strength  of  the  race,  and  is  bad. 

It  is  true  that  life  is  terrible,  but  that  is  no  reason  for  pessi- 
mism. Indeed,  pessimism  and  renunciation  are  impossible  except 
in  a  diseased  and  degener^rfe^^ac^v^or  the  desire  for  life  is 
too  strong  in  a  healthy  m^n^  to  be  overcome  by  pain  and  battle. 
Life  is  an  experiment,  a/ silting  process  in  which  the  sheep  are 
separated  from  the  goats^.  /  It  is  selectivejttiristocratic.  It  brings 
out  the  inequalities  in  hitfnan^nature,  it  inows  that  men  are  not 
equal.  Some  men  are  feietter  tham^othejps,  stronger  in  body  and 
mind.  The  better  n/erij  the  natural-born  aristocrats,  should 
have  more  privileges  Wciause  they  have  more  duties  than  the 
plebeians,  the  rabble.  Tfebest  men  should  rule.  Hence  democ- 
racy, socialism,  communism,  .anarchism  are  all  impossible,  they 
all  contradict  the  ideal,  theV\all  prevent  the  development  of 
strong  individuals.  Slavery  in\s()me  foVm  or/ other  has  always 
existed  and  will  always  exist.  Tfhe  mo^ern^laborer  has  simply 
taken  the  place  of  the  ancient  slave.^Npr  can  women  have  the 
same  rights  as  men  because  they  are  not  equul  to  men  in  initiative, 
energy,  and  will.  Our  greatest  danger  to-daySLies  in  the  mania 
for  equality. 

Our  traditional  morality  is  also  rejected  by  Nietzsche  because  it 
is  based  on  pity  and  favors  the  weak  and  decadent  against  tie 
strong.  Religion,  too,  particularly  Christianity,  is  repudiated 
for  the  same  reason ;  and  his  contempt  for  science  and  philosophy 
is  to  be  explained  in  the  same  way, — by  his  glorification  of  tie 
will  for  power.  Peace,  happiness,  pity,  self-denial,  contempt  of 
the  world,  effeminacy,  non-resistance,  socialism,  communism. 


INTUITIONISM  OF  HENRI  BERGSON  577 

quality,  religion,  philosophy,  and  science  are  all  rejected  because 
hey  contradict  life ;  and  all  systems  of  thought  and  all  institu- 
ions  which  regard  these  things  as  valuable  and  worthy  to  be 
ought  after  for  their  own  sakes  are  symptoms  of  decadence.* 

Among  the  predecessors  of  Nietzsche  is  the  extreme  individualist 
lax  Stirner  (Caspar  Schmidt,  1806-1856;  Der  Einzige  und  sein  Ei- 
entum,  1845,  transl.  by  Mackay). 

Works  of  Nietzsche:  Die  Geburt  der  Tragodie,  1872;  Also  sprach 
larathustra,  1883,  ff. ;  Jenseits  von  Gut  und  Bose,  1886 ;  Zur  Genealogie 
ler  Moral,  1887.  Collected  works  ed.  by  Koegel,  1895,  ff.;  collected 
etters,  1900,  ff .  English  translations  ed.  by  A.  Tille ;  and  by  0.  Levy. 

E.  Foerster-Nietzsche,  Das  Leben  F.  Nietzsches,  2  vols.;  mono- 
Taphs  by  Dolson,  Miigge,  Riehl,  Vaihinger,  Gallwitz,  Ziegler,  R.  Rich- 
er, R.  M.  Meyer,  Lichtenberger  (French  and  German) ;  Rud.  Eisler, 
Nietzsches  Erkenntnistheorie  und  Metaphysik. 


73.  INTUITIONISM  OF  HENI 

The  most  interesting  and  popular  figure  in  the  anti-rational- 
stic  movement  of  our  day  is  Henri  Bergson  (born  1859),  whose 
writings,  like  those  of  William  James,  have  found 

*" 


large  number  of  sympathetic  readers  outside  of 
cademic   circles.    With  the    Romanticists,   prag- 
atists,  and   mystics   he_  proclaims  the   incapacity  of  science 
nd   logic  to   penetrate   the   husk  of  reality  ;  in  tfie  presence 
f   life    and    movement,  conceptual    thinking    stands    helpless. 
cience  can  apprehend  only  what  is  crystallized  in  death,  t 
aste  product  of  creation,  that  which  stands  still,  the  inert 
esidue  that  escapes  time  or  becoming,  that  about  which  we  can 
ake  predictions.     And  yet,  the  work  of  the  intellect  is  no' 
without  its  purpose  ;  it  is,  as  the  pragmatists  declare,  an  insti 
ent  in  the  service  of  the  will  to  live.     But  it  is  also  mor 
han  that,  according  to  Bergson  ;  and  pragmatism  is  only  a  half 
truth.     Conceptual  thought  is  well   adapted   for  employra 
in  a  dead,  static  world,  in  the  world  of  inert  matter 
mechanism  reigns,  and  here  it  has  won  its  greatest  vie 
Where  there  is  no  individuality,  no  inwardness,  nothm 
dead  surface,  science  and  logic  have  both  practical  and 

*  Cf     Thilly     The   Philosophy  of  Fricdrich   Xictztche.  Popular  8ci< 
M  JiAfe  Cmber,  1905,  from  which  part-  of  the  above  account  hare  I 


taken. 


578  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

worth.  When,  however,  they  extend  their  operations  to  thai 
world  in  which  everything  is  moving,  growing,  becoming,  living,! 
they  mutilate  and  falsify  the  real.  Baffled  by  the  infinite  variety; 
and  change  of  forms,  and  taking  the  whirling  flux  for  illusion,} 
the  intellect  proceeds  to  construct  a  bony  skeleton,  a  rigid) 
framework,  and  substitutes  this  as  the  true  reality  for  the  dis-j 
turbing  and  unpleasant  temporal  succession.  It  keeps  forever 
reading  static  elements,  eternal  substances  and  causes,  into  the! 
flux,  and  dropping  out,  as  mere  appearance,  what  does  not  fit! 
into  the  logical  scheme.  The  ideal  of  science  is  a  static  world; 
it  translates  the  flowing  time  into  space  relations:  for  it  dura- 
tion, movement,  life,  and  evolution  are  mere  illusions ;  it  mecha- 
nizes them  all.  Life  and  consciousness  cannot  be  treated  mathe-j 
matically,  scientifically,  logically;  the  scientist  who  studies  and 
analyzes  them  in  the  ordinary  mathematical-physical  ways,  cuts 
them  up,  destroys  them,  and  misses  their  meaning.  The  meta- 
physician cannot  give  us  scientific  knowledge  of  them ;  philosophy 
is  and  must  remain  a  direct  vision  of  reality,  a  Weltanschauung 
in  the  literal  sense  of  the  term,  an  intuition.  Intuition  is  life, 
real  and  immediate  life  envisaging  itself.  There  is  something  in 
the  universe  analogous  to  the  creative  spirit  of  the  poet,  a  liv- 
ing, pushing  force,  an  elan  vital,  which  eludes  the  mathematical 
intelligence  and  which  can  be  appreciated  only  by  a  kind  of 
divining  sympathy,  a  feeling  which  approaches  nearer  to  the 
essence  of  things  than  reason.  Philosophy  is  the  art  of  com- 
prehending or  seizing  the  universe  in  its  process,  in  its  vital 
impetus.  Our  intuitions  are  something  like  instinct, — a  con- 
scious, refined,  spiritualized  instinct, — and  instinct  is  still  nearer 
life  than  intellect  and  science.  The  real,  the  * '  becoming, ' '  the  in- 
ward "  duree,"  life  and  consciousness,  we  can  apprehend  only 
through  the  faculty  of  intuition.  Only  by  observing  for  the 
sake  of  observing  and  not  for  the  sake  of  acting,  will  the  Abso- 
lute reveal  itself.  Its -essence  is  psychological,  not  mathemati- 
cal or  logical.  A  normal  philosophy  must  do  justice  to  bolh 
intelligence  and  intuition,  for  only  by  a  union  of  these  two 
faculties  will  the  philosopher  succeed  in  approximating  to  the 
truth. 

The  sharp  distinction  which  Bergson  makes  between  intelli- 
gence and  intuition,  science  and  philosophy,  has  its  ground  :n 


INTUITIONISM  OF  HENRI  BERGSON  579 

•is  dualistically-tinged  metaphysics.*  \\  Matter  is  a  kind  of  iin- 
lense  machine  without  memory,;  mind  or  consciousness  is  a  force 

ssentially  free  and  essentially  memory,  a  creative 

.,      Metaphysics 
orce  whose  character  is  to  pile  up  the  past  on  the 

ast,  like  a  rolling  snowball,  and  at  every  instant  of  duration  to 
rganize  with  this  past  something  new  which  is  real  creation. 
Consciousness  is  not  a  mere  arrangement  of  parts  succeeding 
ach  other,  but  an  indivisible  process  in  which  there  is  no  repeti- 
tion,— free,  creative  action.  Consciousness  is  in  principle  pres- 
nt  in  all  living  matter ;  indeed,  life  is  nothing  but  consciousness 
ising  matter  for  its  purposes.  A  living  being  is  a  reservoir  of 
ndetermination  and  unforeseeability,  a  reservoir  of  possible 
ictions,  or,  in  a  word,  of  choice.  Life  avails  itself  of  a  certain 
lasticity  in  matter,  and  turns  it  to  the  profit  of  liberty  by 
•tealing  into  whatever  infinitesimal  fraction  of  indetermination 
hat  inert  matter  may  present.  The  animal  performs  voluntary 
novements  by  simply  producing  the  infinitesimal  spark  which 
ets  off  the  potential  energy  stored  up  in  the  foodstuffs. 

Consciousness  is  action  that  continually  creates  and  multi- 
3lies,  while  matter  is  action  that  continually  unmakes  itself 
ind  wears  out.  Neither  the  matter  constituting  the  world 
aor  the  consciousness  which  utilizes  this  matter  can  be  ex- 
plained by  itself ;  there  is  a  common  source  of  both  this  matter 
and  this  consciousness.  The  whole  evolution  of  life  on  our  planet 
.s  an  effort  of  this  essentially  creative  force  to  arrive,  by  trav- 
ersing matter,  at  something  which  is  only  realized  in  man  and 
which,  even  in  man,  is  realized  only  imperfectly.  In  seeking 
to  organize  matter  and  to  make  it  an  instrument  of  liberty, 
consciousness  has  itself  been  ensnared:  liberty  is  dogged  by 
automatism  and  necessity,  and  in  the  long  run  is  stifled  by  i 
With  man  alone  the  chain  has  been  broken ;  the  human  brain 
can  oppose  to  every  contracted  habit  another  habit ;  it  sets  neces- 
sity to  fight  against  necessity.  We  are  free  when  our  acts  spring 
from  our  whole  personality,  when  they  are  the  expression  of  that 
personality ;  hence,  real  acts  of  freedom  are  rare  in  our  lives, 

Matter  plays  the  role  both  of  obstj"»l«?  Md  ptimulua.  causes  us 
to  feel  our  force  and  also  enables  us  to  intensify  it.    Jo; 
pleasure)  is  a  sign  which  apprises  us  every  time  our  activity  is 

•  See  his  article,  Life  and  Consciousness,  in  Hibbcrt  Journal,  October,  1911. 


580  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

in  full  expansion,  an  emphatic  signal  of  the  triumph  of  iifeJ 
wherever  joy  is,  creation  has  been.  The  ultimate  reason  on 
human  life  is  a  creation  which  can  be  pursued  at  every  moment! 
and  by  all  men  alike,  the  creation  of  self  by  self,  the  continual 
enrichment  of  personality  by  elements  which  it  does  not  draw! 
from  outside,  but  causes  to  spring  forth  from  itself.  The  pas-i 
sage  of  consciousness  through  matter  is  destined  to  bring  toj 
precision, — in  the  form  of  distinct  personalities, — tendencies! 
or  potentialities  which  at  first  were  confused,  and  also  to  permit; 
these  personalities  to  test  their  force  whilst  at  the  same  time 
increasing  it  by  an  effort  of  self-creation.  But  consciousness  ist 
also  memory,  one  of  its  essential  functions  is  to  accumulate  and. 
preserve  the  past ;  in  pure  consciousness  nothing  of  the  past  is, 
lost,  the  whole  life  of  the  conscious  personality  is  an  indivisible 
continuity.  This  leads  us  to  suppose  that  the  effort  continues 
beyond.  Perhaps  in  man  alone  is  consciousness  immortal. 

Works  of  Bergson:  Time  and  Free  Will,  1888,  transl.  by  Pogson; 
Matter  and  Memory,  1896,  transl.  by  Paul  and  Palmer ;  Laughter,  1900, 
transl.  by  Rothwell;  Introduction  to  Metaphysics,  1903,  transl.  by 
Hulme;  Creative  Evolution,  1910,  transl.  by  Mitchell;  Life  and  Con- 
sciousness, in  Hibbert  Journal,  October,  1911. 

Carr,  Bergson;  Le  Roy,  A  New  Philosophy:  II .  Bergson,  transl.  by 
Brown;  A.  D.  Lindsay,  The  Philosophy  of  Bergson;  J.  M.  Stewart, 
Critical  Exposition  of  Bergson's  Philosophy;  Dodson,  Bergson  and  the 
Modern  Spirit;  Berthelot,  Un  Yomanticisme  utilitaire;  Grandjean,  Une 
revolution  dans  la  philosophic;  Coignet,  De  Kant  a  Bergson;  Brod 
and  Weltsch,  Anschauung  und  Begriff;  numerous  articles  in  the  phi- 
losophical journals. 


74.  REALISTIC  REACTION  AGAINST  IDEALISM 

Bergson,  agreeing  with  the  German  idealists,  finds  scientific 
knowledge  wanting  because  it  analyzes  and  divides  existence: 

and  seeks   a  method  that  will  do  justice  to  the 
Neo-Realists  .  ..  ..  x. 

organic    nature    of    reality.     A    realistic    reaction 

against  idealism  has  arisen  in  England  and  in  the  United  States 
which  regards  science  as  the  most  certain  body  of  knowledge 
and  looks  upon  the  divorce  of  philosophy  from  science  as  dis- 
astrous for  philosophy.*  In  accordance  with  what  it  believes  tc 
be  the  spirit  of  the  scientific  method,  this  school  rejects  the  ideal- 

*  See  Marvin,  A  First  Book  in  Metaphysics,  chap.  i. 


REALISTIC  REACTION  AGAINST  IDEALISM      581 

Itic  theory  of  knowledge  that  relations  are  internal  or  organic, 
Ind  conceives  them  as  not  affecting  the  nature  of  the  things  or 
lerms  related,  thaf  is,  as  external.  A  straight  line  is  the  same 
Itraight  line  whether  it  is  the  radius  of  a  circle,  the  side  of  a 
Jquare,  or  the  altitude  of  a  triangle.  The  school,  therefore, 
Imphasizes  analysis, — the  very  method  of  knowledge  which  Hegel 
Ind  his  followers,  no  less  than  pragmatists  and  intuitionists, 
pad  repudiated  as  an  inadequate  instrument  of  truth, — and  finds 
[tself  driven  to  pluralism  rather  than  to  monism.  '*  My  philos- 
phy  is  analytic,"  says  Bertrand  Russell,  "  because  it  holds  that 
t  is  necessary  to  seek  the  simple  elements  of  which  the  com- 
)lexes  are  composed,  and  that  the  complex  things  presuppose  the 
simple  things  whereas  the  simple  things  do  not  presuppose  the 
omplex  things."*  This  philosophy  is  also  realistic  in  the  sense 
)f  considering  existence  as  not  depending  upon  knowledge. 
'  The  entities  under  study  in  logic,  mathematics,  physics,  and 
nany  other  sciences  are  not  mental  in  any  proper  or  usual  mean- 
ng  of  the  word  mental."  "  The  being  and  nature  of  these 
mtities  are  in  no  sense  conditioned  by  their  being  known,  "f 

To  this  school  belong  the  Englishmen  Bertrand  Russell,  G.  E. 
VToore,  and  S.  Alexander;  and  the  six  American  realists  E.  B. 
Holt,  W.  T.  Marvin,  W.  P.  Montague,  R.  B.  Perry,  W.  B.  Pitkm, 
and  E.  G.  Spaulding,  joint  authors  of  The  New  Realism,  1912, 
and  "  The  Program  and  First  Platform  of  Six  Realists."  E.  B. 
McGilvary  sympathizes  with  the  realistic  movement. 

F.  J.  E.  Woodbridge  directs  his  opposition  mainly  against 
subjective  idealism  and  the  "  traditional  conception  of  con- 
sciousness as  an  end- term  in  a  relation."  Consciousness,  ac- 
cording to  him,  is  itself  a  relation, — a  relation  ff  meaning, — 
which  is  just  as  much  a  relation  between  things  as  are  space  and 
time.  Awareness  is  nothing  but  the  manifold  and  irresistible 
meaning-connections  which  the  things  in  the  conscious  situation 
have.  The  addition  of  knowledge  to  a  reality  hitherto  without 
it,  is  simply  an  addition  to  it  and  not  a  transformation  of  it. 
It  is  not  an  external  mind  which  knows  reality  by  means  of  its 
own  ideas,  but  reality  itself  becomes  known  through  its  own 

*  Bulletin  of  the  8oci6t6  francaise,  March,  1011.  See  also  Marvin,  op. 
oit.,  chap.  viii. 

f  Quoted  from  "  The  Program  and  First  Platform  of  Six  Realists,"  J.  of 
Phil,  vol.  VII,  no.  16. 


582  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

expanding  and  readjusting  processes.  The  things  are  not  ideas! 
representing  other  things  outside  of  consciousness,  but  real 
things,  which,  by  being  in  consciousness,  have  the  capacity  of 
representing  each  other,  of  standing  for  or  implying  each  other. 

Russell,  Foundations  of  Geometry,  1901,  Principles  of  Mathematics, 
1903,  Philosophical  Essays,  1910,  The  Problems  of  Philosophy,  1911; 
G.  E.  Moore,  Principia  Ethica,  1903,  Ethics,  1912;  Marvin,  A  First 
Book  in  Metaphysics,  1912;  Perry,  Approach  to  Philosophy,  1907,  The 
Moral  Economy,  1909,  Present  Philosophical  Tendencies,  1911.  See 
also  the  articles  by  all  the  realists  in  the  philosophical  journals. 

75.  RATIONALISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  * 

Peculiar  to  the  anti-intellectualistic  philosophies  of  the  pres- 
ent day  is  their  antagonism  to  ultra-deterministic  systems  of  any 
kind,  materialistic  or  idealistic.  They  all  plead  for 
Merits  of  a  m0re  elastic  universe,  for  a  world  in  which  human 
lectualism"  ^e  can  amoun^  to  something  more  than  a  mere 
puppet-show  or  a  drama  in  which  the  characters 
simply  play  the  parts  cast  for  them.  They  all  repudiate  a  world 
in  which  freedom,  initiative,  individual  responsibility,  novelty, 
adventure,  risk,  chance,  romance, — life  as  the  individual  un- 
touched by  philosophy  seems  to  live  it, — are  lacking ;  the  interest 
is  shifted  from  the  universal  to  the  particular,  from  the  machine- 
like  to  the  organic,  from  the  intellect  to  the  will,  from  logic  to 
intuition,  from  the  theoretical  to  the  practical,  from  God  to  man. 
Recent  Romanticism  demands  a  world  in  which  the  human 
being  shall  have  a  fighting  chance,  which,  with  effort,  he  can 
fashion  to  his  purposes  and  ideals,  in  which  he  can  succeed  and 
fail.  It  wants  the  world  back  again  as  it  revealed  itself  to 
ordinary  unreflecting  common  sense. 

There  is  much  that  is  good  in  these  new  tendencies.  For  ono 
thing  they  have  put  the  old  classical  systems  on  their  mettle  and 
are  making  them  justify  their  existence.  Without  antagonisms, 
without  battles  to  fight,  philosophy  easily  falls  to  sleep,  sink:! 
into  "  the  deep  slumber  of  a  decided  opinion."  Conflict  is  bet- 
ter than  self-satisfied  assurance  or  indifference.  "  War  is  tht 
Father  of  all  and  the  King  of  all,"  in  the  domain  of  mind  as 

*  The  following  pages  have  been  taken  from  the  author's  article  Roman 
ticism  and  Rationalism,  Phil.  Rev.,  March.  1913. 


RATIONALISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  583 

rerywhere  else,  and  there  is  nothing  so  dead  as  an  accepted 
:eed.  "  Both  teachers  and  learners  go  to  sleep  at  their  post," 
[ill  is  right,  "  as  soon  as  there  is  no  enemy  in  the  field."  A 
hilosophy  that  is  done,  is  a  philosophy  that  is  done  for. 

In  addition  to  the  important  service  which  the  new  thinkers 
ave  rendered  in  helping  to  rejuvenate  philosophy,  they  have 
Iso  aided  in  focusing  attention  upon  points  that  are  apt  to  be 
)st  sight  of.  They  have  again  pushed  to  the  front  the  question 
f  the  relation  of  natural  science  and  philosophy,  the  whole 
nowledge-problem,  and  have  emphasized  the  significance  of 
uman  values  in  the  scheme  of  things:  questions  which  call  for 
ver  new  answers  with  the  progress  of  human  inquiry.  They 
lave  warned  us  against  mistaking  the  universal  framework  of 
•eality  for  reality  itself,  and  have  insisted  on  our  keeping  close  to 
ioncrete  experience.  They  protest  against  a  one-sided  meta- 
Dhysic,  a  metaphysic  that  fails  to  do  justice  to  all  the  varied 
xperiences  of  mankind  and  interprets  the  world  in  terms  of 
mere  aspects  of  experience,  conceiving  it  as  a  physical,  logical,  or 
eleological  machine.  They  refuse  to  accept  as  complete  the  ac- 
jount  of  reality  written  by  the  outward-looking  intellect  and 
o  picture  it  in  analogy  with  the  knowing  human  mind.  They 
accentuate  the  dynamic  character  of  reality,  the  Heraclitean 
world-view  as  against  the  static  Absolute  of  the  Eleatics,  and 
conceive  being  in  analogy  with  the  human  will. 

All  these  points  and  many  others  in  the  writings  of  the  newest 
reformers  of  philosophy  are  well  taken  and  have  been  emphasized 
again  and  again  in  the  history  of  speculation.    The 
motives  behind  their  wholesale  distrust  of  the  in- 
tellect  are  fear  of  depreciation  of  standard  moral 
and  religious  values,  a  preconceived  metaphysic,  and  a  somew 
narrow  conception  of  intelligence.    It  should  not  be  forgotten, 
however    that   distrust  of  reason   based   on   cravings   of 
will   is  not  necessarily   a   bona  fide   distrust.    What  satisfies 
the   will  to  believe   may  not   satisfy  the   will   to   underst 
our    world    of    experience.     The    will    to    believe    must 
be  rendered  intelligible;  reasons  must  be  given  for  ac< 
its  demands,  and  these  reasons  must  satisfy  the  will  to 
It  is  necessary  to  give  reasons  for  taking  the  side  of 
to  believe,  that  is,  to  appeal  to  the  intelligence,  the  same  inte 


584,  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

gence  that  has  helped  to  free  us  from  the  slavery  of  nature  an<| 
the  slavery  of  our  own  superstitions.  Such  an  appeal  is  mad<i 
by  every  anti-intellectualist,  yes,  by  every  pragmatist  who  ask: 
us  to  accept  his  theory  because  it  is  rational,  because  it  accounts 
for  the  facts  as  he  sees  the  facts,  because  it  is  true, — true  in  th( 
old  sense  of  the  word.  And  reasons  are  always  given,  even  by 
faith-philosophers;  they  construct  a  world  for  us  in  which  the 
will  to  believe  will  not  constitute  an  irrational  element.  Kanli 
accepted  the  categorical  imperative  and  its  implications  because1 
he  believed  in  a  rational  universe  and  because  a  universe  did 
not  seem  intelligible  to  him  in  which  human  reason  could  demand 
an  irrational  thing,  a  meaningless  law. 

It  would,  however,  be  a  valid  objection  against  the  competence 
of  the  intellect  if  it  could  be  shown  that  it  falsifies  reality,  that  it 

compels  us  to  construct  a  world-view  that  simply  is 
Intelligence  not  true.  Such  an  objection  presupposes  the  posses- 
Reality  s*on  °^  a  metaphysic  or  other  sources  of  knowledge 

which  we  are  able  to  oppose  to  the  conclusions  of 
reason  as  something  more  real  and  authoritative.  If  the  in- 
telligence saddles  us  with  a  block-universe  and  there  is  no  block- 
universe,  intelligence  ought  to  be  drummed  out  of  camp.  But  the 
question  quite  naturally  arises:  Does  the  human  understanding 
really  squeeze  all  life  out  of  existence  and  leave  us  nothing  but 
a  bony  skeleton?  Does  rational  thought  demand  an  absolutely 
closed  system,  one  in  which  nothing  exists  that  was  not  there 
before,  nothing  that  cannot  be  deduced  in  principle,  without  a 
remainder,  from  preexistent  elements?  Does  it  follow  from 
the  very  nature  of  reason  that  what  now  is  always  has  been 
and  always  will  be,  that  there  is  nothing  new  under  the  SUE, 
that  the  new  is  nothing  but  a  rearrangement  of  the  old  ?  If  we 
define  reality,  in  the  first  place,  as  rigid,  inert  blocks  of  matte  r 
that  can  be  pushed  and  pulled  and  nothing  else,  it  follows  that 
nothing  can  come  out  of  it  that  was  not  there  before.  If  w? 
conceive  reality  as  mind,  and  mind  as  a  thing,  as  something  that 
can  do  nothing  unless  pushed  by  something  else,  or  as  a  static 
universal  purpose,  then,  again,  the  world  is  a  closed  system : 
nothing  can  come  into  it  that  was  not  already  there  before.  Bu; 
we  are  not  compelled  to  define  reality  in  either  way,  and  human 
intelligence  is  not  by  nature  forced  to  conceive  it  so;  it  is  com- 


RATIONALISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  585 

elled  only  to  accept  the  consequences  of  such  a  definition  if 
ich  a  definition  be  accepted.  Moreover,  this  is  not  the  view  of 
sality  which  the  great  historical  systems  have  given  us;  to 
mstrue  them  in  this  sense  is  to  misconstrue  them.  It  is  true, 
le  human  mind  has  its  ways  of  thinking;  our  very  problems 
3llow  from  the  nature  of  our  thought  and  certain  results  follow. 
here  is  not  a  single  faith-philospher,  intuitionist,  or  pragmatist 
ho  does  not  think  in  these  general  human  ways,  who  does  not 
ry  hard  to  be  consistent,  who  does  not  look  out  for  similarities 
ad  differences  in  his  experiences,  who  does  not  single  out  and 
old  fast  certain  phases  of  them,  and  who  does  not  relate  them 
L  definite  ways.  The  mind  has  its  ways,  and  some  of  these 
ays,  if  left  to  themselves,  tend  to  stretch  reality  upon  a  static 
rocrustean  frame  to  make  it  fit ;  there  is  always  danger  of  one- 
dedness  in  intelligence,  that,  instinct-like,  it  will  spin  the  same 
Id  web  around  everything  it  meets,  that  it  will  apply  everywhere 
le  methods  which  Kant,  Pichte,  Schelling,  and  Bergson  allow  it 
o  use  only  in  the  dead  world,  that  it  will  try  to  handle  life  and 
onsciousness  as  it  would  handle  its  corpses.  There  is  this  danger, 
nd  the  thinker  who  deals  largely  in  abstract  formulas  often 
uccumbs  to  it.  But  it  is  just  the  business  of  philosophy  to 
void  this  very  danger,  to  apply  the  methods  intelligibly;  the 
ure  for  intelligence  is  more  intelligence. 

There  is  nothing  whatever  in  the  nature  of  the  human  mind  to 
orce  it  to  reduce  all  reality  to  dead  blocks  that  can  be  counted, 
rranged  in  order,  and  measured.     There  is  nothing  to  hinder 
t  from  doing  justice  to  the  dynamic,  living,  flowing,  galloping 
>hase  of  experience,  to  that  phase  about  which  the  new  philos- 
phers  are  so  much  concerned.    Rationalism  is  not  fatally  bound 
to  the  mathematical-physical  method  of  procedure  and  static 
absolutes,  nor  prevented  by  any  presuppositions  from  reaching 
the  conception  of  a  dynamic  and  developing  universe.     II 
assumed  such  a  world  and  made  reason  move  to  keep  step  with  it ; 
or,  rather,  he  could  not  hinder  reason  from  keeping  step,  for, 
in  his  opinion,  rational  thought  is  just  such  a  dynamic  process 
as  the  world.    No  Romanticist  can  be  more  pronounced  in  his 
distrust  of  mere  intelligence  than  he  was  of  the  Verstand,  and 
more  insistent  on  avoiding  its  pitfalls.    But  he  was  not,  on  that 
account,  ready  to  throw  thinking  overboard  and  to  take  on  faith 


586  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

and  intuition  as  pilots;  reason  itself  provided  the  remedy  fo 
the  short-sightedness  of  the  discursive  understanding,  as  he  con 
ceived  it. 

But  whether  or  not  Hegel  succeeded  in  his  attempt  to  repro 

duce  in  thought  the  dynamic  cosmic  process,  human  reason  doe 

not   demand   a   static   world  for   its   satisfaction 

Pin       h         ^or  must  we>  ^  be  rational,  conceive  reality,  i 

analogy  with  the  mind  of  the  logician,  as  a  fleshlesa, 
and  bloodless  skeleton  of  categories,  or  reduce  it  to  a  passionless 
contemplative  God.  Philosophy  has  as  its  aim  the  interpreta- 
tion of  experience  as  it  finds  it;  it  seeks  to  understand  it,  toj 
render  it  intelligible,  to  put  certain  questions  to  the  given 
and  to  answer  them.  It  does  not  seek  to  spin  reality  out  of 
a  priori  truths,  to  construct  a  conceptual  system  independently 
of  experience,  to  shut  its  eyes  and  stop  up  its  ears  and  just  think 
the  world  out  in  the  dark,  as  it  were.  It  proposes  to  look  experi- 
ence squarely  in  the  face,  to  see  things  as  they  are  and  then  to 
understand  them  in  the  only  sense  in  which  human  beings  can 
understand  them,  that  is,  in  their  manifold  relations  to  one  an- 
other. It  will  not  reject  any  methods  or  sources  of  experiencing 
that  promise  to  throw  light  on  its  business,  be  they  intellectual, 
artistic,  or  religious  intuitions ;  but  it  will  not  accept  any  one  of 
them  without  criticism,  any  more  than  it  will  accept  ordinary 
sense-experience  offhand. 

And,  so  far  as  can  be  seen,  no  new  school  of  philosophy 
attempts  to  force  its  intuitions  or  wills  to  believe  upon  us  without 
giving  reasons  for  our  accepting  these  methods  of  knowledge 
rather  than  others :  the  only  question  is  whether  or  not  the  rea- 
sons are  adequate.  There  is  always  some  more  or  less  rations! 
theory  behind,  the  view  that  pure  experience,  or  immediate  es> 
perience,  or  intellectual  intuition,  or  sympathetic  artistic  feeling, 
or  moral  or  religious  faith,  gives  us  the  clearest  and  truest  insight 
into  reality.  Blind  faith  in  witches  and  demons  is  not  accepted 
on  its  own  testimony  by  those  in  whom  the  will  to  know  is  strong, 
and  no  alleged  experience  is  going  to  pass  unchallenged  that 
cannot  give  an  account  of  itself. 

The  inner  experiences  emphasized  and  variously  named  by 
Fichte,  Schelling,  Bergson,  and  countless  others,  the  inner  psychij 
life  of  man  himself,  cannot  be  cast  aside  or  reduced  to  mere  ap- 


RATIONALISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  587 

learance  unless  there  is  ample  cognitive  warrant  for  so  doing. 
•he  protests  of  the  new  movements  against  the  mechanization  of 
Ife  and  mind  may  be  justified,  but  they  are  not 
totests  against  intelligence  and  rationalism  ;  ra-   Univer^  " 
lonalism  itself  has  protested  against  a  static  and 
mechanical  view  in  the  persons  of  a  long  line  of  illustrious  think- 
Irs  ever  since  the  days  of  Plato.    And  the  protests  of  the  re- 
lormers  against  a  spiritual  block-universe,  against  the  atomic 
lonception  of  mental  life  or  the  idea  of  a  teleological  despotism 
tiled  by  an  arch-purpose,  may  be  justified,  but  it  is  not  a  valid 
Irotest  against  rationalism,  which  is  in  no  wise  compelled  to  look 
It  mental  life  in  such  a  wooden  way.    Rationalism  is  committed 
jfo  nothing  but  the  business  of  understanding  experience,  of  put- 
ling  questions  to  it—  not  such  as  any  fool  may  ask  but  only  such 
Its  a  wise  man  can  answer. 

I    It  is  true,  reason  can  operate  only  in  a  rational  world,  11 
Irorld  in  which  there  is  likeness  besides  difference,  unity  besides 
lurality,  permanence  besides  change.     It  does  not  demand 
lead,  static  world  for  its  workshop;  it  is  not  baffled  by  life  and 
^hancre  and  evolution,  even  by  creative  evolution  and  novel 
provided  creation  and  novelty  are  not  absolutely  capnc 
in  a  topsy-turvy  world  reason  would  grow  dizzy  and  shut 
eyes     With  absolute  caprice,  with  novelty  that  is  utter! 
out  rhyme  or  reason,  that  appears  and  disappears  at 
and  is  absolutely  unrelated  to  anything  else,  neither  mt< 
nor  intuition  can  do  anything  whatsoever     There  ,s  no  * 
in  novelty  except  in  relation  with  the  old:  where  t 
oldness  there  can  be  no  newness.    The  entrance  of  no, 
not,  however,  put  a  quietus  on  rational  inquiry. 
of  life  and  the  phenomena  of  consciousness  may  I 
in  comparison  with  mechanical  occurrence,  and  rat, 
have  to  admit  their  uniqueness  if  it  cannot  redt          «o  a 


ave 
single  principle.   It  is  not  the  business  of  human  reason  to  feUQ 


688  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

gence  and  giving  another  name  to  the  function  or  function! 
through  which  we  reach  a  different  conception.     We  may  dis' 
tinguish,  if  we  will,  between  intelligence  and  intui1 
Intellect  tion,     Verstand    and    Vernunft,     regarding    thf 

Intuition  former  as  the  method  of  scientific  study,  the 
latter  as  the  source  of  metaphysical  knowledge 
of  a  higher  order.  But  the  distinction  would  be  an  arti- 
ficial one,  the  very  kind  of  distinction  against  which  Romanti- 
cists  inveigh  as  cutting  up  what  cannot  be  cut  up.  There 
can  be  no  intuition  that  is  absolutely  devoid  of  intelligence,  no 
philosophy,  no  knowledge,  where  intellect  is  dumb.  Radical 
empiricism,  naive  realism,  and  intuitionism,  all  represent  an  ef- 
fort to  get  directly  at  the  heart  of  things,  all  are  expressions  of 
an  intense  longing  for  reality,  symptoms  of  metaphysical  home- 
sickness. Rationalism  can  accept  any  one  or  all  of  these  heroic 
attempts  at  taking  reality  by  storm, — if  they  can  pass  muster. 
But  can  any  experience,  pure,  immediate,  or  intuitive,  be  made 
the  basis  of  philosophical  truth  without  being  inspected  by  the 
same  intelligence  that  operates  in  ordinary  life ;  can  this  intelli- 
gence be  silenced,  can  it  lose  itself  in  mere  unintelligent  mystical 
gazing,  and  if  it  can,  of  what  use  will  it  ever  be  to  science  or 
philosophy  ?  No  theory  that  endeavors,  as  every  theory  must,  to 
validate  its  methods  and  sources  of  knowledge,  can  or  does  refuse 
to  reflect  upon  its  immediate  experiences,  to  analyze  them  for 
us,  to  tell  us  how  they  are  constituted,  and  to  employ  categories 
in  doing  all  this.  The  pure  experience  as  described  by  the  new 
philosophers  is  not  a  pure  experience  at  all,  but  the  product  of 
analysis  and  reflection,  the  result  of  the  very  conceptual  opera,- 
tions  which  they  condemn.  The  voice  is  Heraclitus's  voice,  but 
the  hand  is  the  hand  of  Parmenides. 

If,  however,  it  is  insisted  that  the  intellect  reveals  to  us  onlv 
an  external  world,  physical  objects  in  causaf-mechanical  relatior, 
then  it  is  true  that  it  does  not  tell  us  the  whole  story.  And  if  th  3 
intellect  paralyzes  everything  it  lays  its  eyes  on,  stops  motion, 
kills  life,  butchers  reality,  then,  indeed,  scientific  thinking  in 
inadequate  and  there  is  need  of  a  special  method  or  the  abandon  - 
ment  of  philosophy.  The  intuitionists  are  right  in  throwing* 
logic  and  concepts  cverboard,  or  at  least  in  limiting  their  depre- 
dations to  the  field  of  things  already  dead,  if  conceptual  though ; 


RATIONALISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  589 

guilty  of  playing  such  havoc.  They  are  right  in  holding  that 
nse-  perception  is  not  the  sole  source  and  sense-perceived  things 
Dt  the  sole  objects  of  knowledge.  A  being  capable  only  of 
oking  outward  would  miss  a  body  of  experiences  which  mere 
itward-gazing  intelligence  can  never  reach.  Living  conscious- 
3ss  is  an  event  in  the  world  which  living  consciousness  alone  can 
aow.  If  there  can  be  science  only  where  there  are  static  abso- 
ites,  then  every  attempt  to  treat  life  and  mind  scientifically 
ust  be  a  falsification  of  them,  and  science  had  better  let  them 
one.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  take  such  a  one-sided  view  of 
itelligence  and  knowledge.  Science  is  not  limited  to  outward 
srception.  Intelligence  is  not  limited  to  the  function  of  chop- 
ng  things  up  and  counting,  measuring,  and  arranging  the  bits; 
nthesis  is  as  much  its  function  as  analysis.  The  two  functions 
nply  each  other,  one  is  impossible  without  the  other ;  how  could 
lere  be  counting,  measuring,  and  arranging  without  either! 
Our  conclusion  then  would  be  this:  If  anyone  finds  grounds 
>r  supposing  that  the  object  of  rationalism  is  to  deduce  a  world 
om  a  priori  principles,  to  construct  an  absolute  Conclllsion 
Astern  independently  of  experience,  his  hostility  to 

is  fully  justified.    The  aim  of  all  thinking  is  to  interpret  ex- 
erience  as  we  find  it,  not  to  spin  it  out  of  an  a  priori  principle. 
Ve  are  in  search  of  theories,  and,  if  the  thing  is  possible,  of  a 
niversal  theory  that  will  help  us  to  understand  what  is ;  and 
uch  theories  must  be  laid  on  the  foundations  of  experience 
hey  cannot  hang  in  mid-air.    And  though  the  mind  longs  for 
certainty  and  has  for  its  ideal  a  system  of  interrelated  judgments, 
present-day  rationalism  cannot  and  does  not  lay  claim  to  the  pa 
session  of  complete  truth.    Again,  human  thinking  has  il 
or  habits,  and  rationalism  is  right  in  recognizing  such  habi 
categories  of  thought.    But  they  are  not  mere  arbitrary  1 
and  they  do  not  falsify  the  real.    It  is  natural  to  suppa 
mind  that  has  grown  up  in  the  world  should  have  caugl 
thing  of  its  spirit ;  it  is  hard  to  see  how  a  mind  could  \ 
habits  in  a  world  that  has  no  habits,  or  how  a  imn.l 
an  environment  that  knows  no  law  and  y 
to  law.    If  to  categorize  the  world  is  to  falsify  i 
fronted  with  the  double  miracle  of  a  sane  mind 
bedlam  and  remaining  sane  in  bedlam. 


590  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 

Moreover,  if  rationalism  is  taken  to  mean  the  degradation  of 
the  seeming  diversity  of  experience  to  mere  illusion,  and  thej 
absolute  domination  of  concrete  particulars  by  an  abstraction^ 
call  it  matter,  energy,  spirit,  or  God,  the  protests  of  pluralismj 
are  just.  Unity  without  plurality  is  death,  as  plurality  without 
unity  is  chaos.  Indeed,  thinking  itself  would  be  as  absolutely" 
dumb  in  the  presence  of  absolute  monotony  as  in  the  presence] 
of  absolute  chaos.  And  so  would  sense-perception  and  feeling 
and  intuition.  Rationalism  does  not  compel  us  to  reduce  all 
processes  to  a  single  principle;  a  world  of  differences,  opposi-i 
tions,  changes  is  not  an  irrational  world.  It  is  true  that  knowl-i 
edge  would  be  impossible  in  a  world  in  which  there  are  ncj 
unities  and  uniformities,  but  it  is  just  as  true  that  it  would  be 
impossible  in  a  world  in  which  there  is  neither  difference  non 
change.  Rationalism  does  not  prescribe  the  goal  and  path  of! 
science  or  philosophy  a  priori;  it  does  not  fasten  the  mind  in  the 
strait-jacket  of  mathematical-physical  method;  it  does  not  com- 
pel us  to  reduce  biology,  psychology,  and  history  to  physics;! 
it  does  not  force  us  to  reduce  everything  to  static  absolutes 
and  block-universes.  It  leaves  ample  room  for  adventure  and; 
change;  it  takes  experience  as  it  comes  and  finds  rhyme  and! 
reason  in  it.  Even  if  nature  and  her  laws  were  conceived  as 
constantly  changing,  rationalism  would  not  give  up  the  ghost 
so  long  as  there  remained  the  possibility  of  discovering  a  law 
of  change  in  the  changing  laws.  Only  in  case  there  were  na 
law  of  change,  if  nature  were  utterly  lawless,  would  rationalism 
fail.  But  in  that  case,  all  the  other  philosophies, — pragmatism, 
intuitionism,  and  the  rest, — would  go  down  with  the  wreck,  fori 
every  one  of  them  is  an  attempt  to  understand  experience,  anl! 
none  of  them  could  thrive  in  an  irrational  world.  And  in  such  a 
world  as  that  nothing  would  work. 

The  fundamental  postulate  of  rationalism  is  that  experience 
is  somehow  intelligible,  that  all  genuine  problems  are  somehow 
and  sometime  soluble ;  if  reason  can  ask  them  intelligibly,  reaso  i 
can  answer.  But  the  demand  for  rationality  does  not  neces- 
sarily preclude  the  possibility  of  freedom,  responsibility,  change  >, 
novelty,  evolution,  and  play  into  the  hands  of  absolute  deter- 
minism. It  is  true,  if  reality  is  broken  up  into  a  physical  series 
of  causes  and  effects  or  into  a  mental  series  of  the  same  character, 


RATIONALISM  AND  ITS  OPPONENTS  591 

ien  the  concrete  particular,  thing  or  person,  is  caught  in  the 
utches  of  circumstance,  be  they  mechanical  or  teleological. 
Tiether  he  is  coerced  by  the  physical  machinery  or  by  a  uni- 

rersal  purpose,  man  is  equally  a  slave.  But  why  should  we 
rterpret  our  categories  of  cause,  purpose,  and  evolution  in 
ich  a  wooden  way  and  insist  on  seeing  everything,  life  and 
insciousness  included,  in  the  form  of  static  absolutes  f  To 
mceive  them  so  is  to  take  a  decidedly  narrow  and  unhistorical 

iew  of  reason  and  intelligence  and  to  give  an  easy  victory  to 
Lechanism.  The  way  of  escape  from  the  block-universe  is  not 
rough  Romanticism,  but  through  a  broad-minded  rationalistic 

ihilosophy. 


INDEX 

(The    asterisk    indicates    the    important    places   in   which    phllowpberi   »r« 
reated.     For  special  phases  of  their  doctrines,   see  the  Table  of 


\belard,  172*  ff.,  225. 

Absolute,  28,  127,  164  f.,  239, 
295  ff.,  411  f.,  451  ff.,  455,  463, 
466,  470  f.,  475  f.,  500,  515  f., 
538  f.,  557  ff.,  566  ff.,  569,  578. 
Bee  also  Pantheism,  Substance, 
Theism. 

Absolutism,  political,  159,  250,  271, 

327. 
Abstract  ideas,  336  f.,  343.    See  also 

Ideas,     Nominalism,     and     Uni- 

versals. 

Abubacer,  186. 

Academic  skepticism,  75,  116  f. 
Academy,  59,  74  f.,  116  f. 
Actual  and  potential,  83,  88,  193  f., 

370,  376,  465  ff. 
Actus  purus,  85,  370,  500. 
Adelard  of  Bath,  174,  204. 
Adickes,  E.,  493. 
^Egidius  of  Colonna,  203. 
jEgidius  of  Lessines,  203. 
^Eneas  of  Gaza,  145. 
^schylus,  41. 
Esthetics.    See  Art. 
Agnosticism,  345. 
Agricola,  R.,  232. 
Agrippa  of  Nettesheim,  234. 
d'Ailly,  Pierre,  217,  218. 
Alo&nffis,  60. 
Alanus  ab  Insulis,  175. 

l^rt  thereat,  162,  189,  1«OM 

204. 

Albert  of  Saxony,  217. 
Albigenses,  224. 
Alcseus,  9. 
Alchemy,  234,  235. 
Alcibiades,  51. 
Alcuin,  158. 
d'Alembert,  J.,  384. 


Alexander  of  Aphrodisias,  180,  181, 

231,  232. 
Alexander   the  Great,   76,   95,   11«, 

122. 

Alexander  of  Hales,  171,  189*  f. 
Alexander,  S.,  581. 
Alexandria,  121. 

Alexandrian-Roman  School,  126  ff. 
Alexinus,  58. 
Alfarabi,  184. 
Algazel,  185. 
Alkindi,  184. 
Allegorical       interpretation,       H4, 

122  f.,  137,  139. 
Althusius,  J.,  243,  245. 

Altruism,    509,    546  f.     8e€    Social 
Feeling. 

Alvarus  Pelagius,  223. 

Amalric  (Amaury),  178. 

Amalricians,  178. 

Ambrose,  147,  152. 

Ammonius  Saccas,  126. 

Amor  Dei,  304. 

Anabaptists,  248. 

Analysis,  581,  589. 

Analytic  judgments,  345,  353.  3 

Anamnesis,  67. 

Anaxagoras,  16,  81,  33»  ff.,  43,  64. 

Anaximander,  17*  f. 

Anaximine«,  18*  f. 

Ancilla  theologia,  136. 

Andronicus  of  Rhodes  77,  M. 

Angelology,  121,  124. 

Animal  spirit*.  261,  266,  •». 
Aruckauung,  398  ff. 
Anselm,  162,  lW»ff,225. 
Anthropomorphism,  87,  * 
Antinomies  410  ff. 
Antlochu.  IV,  122. 
AntiochuB  of  A^akm,  117,  11^ 


593 


594 


INDEX 


Antipater  of  Tarsus,  104. 
Anti-Rationalism,         178  ff.,        361, 
388  ff.,  393,  408  ff.,  428  ff.,  448  f., 
562  ff.     See  also  Faith,  Intuition- 
ism,  Mysticism,  Pragmatism,  and 
Skepticism. 
Antonius  Andrese,  214. 

Apathy,  113. 

Apollonius  of  Perga,  122  n. 

Apollonius  of  Rhodes,  122  n. 

Apollonius  of  Tyana,  126. 

Apologists,  135,  140*  ff. 

A  posteriori  knowledge,  397,  400. 
See  also  A  priori  Knowledge. 

Appearances,  22  f.,  30,  39,  63  f.,  73, 
266  ff.,  268,  343,  367,  480  ff.,  556, 
574  f.  See  also  Primary  and  Sec- 
ondary Qualities,  Subjective  Ideal- 
ism, Things-in-themselves. 

Apperception,  369. 

Appetition,  304,  369,  375,  380,  512. 

A  priori  knowledge,  60,  62,  80  f., 
148,  162  f.,  193,  253,  274  ff.,  277  f., 
286,  349,  362  ff.,  376  f.,  394,  397  ff., 
472,  478  f.,  513  ff.,  524  f.,  536, 
564,  575,  586,  589;  criticism  of, 
105  ff.,  309,  349  ff.,  524  f.,  564  f., 
575;  defense  of,  376  ff. 

A  priori  method,  274  ff.,  292  ff.,  453, 
455  ff.  See  also  Deduction,  Tran- 
scendental Method. 

Apuleius,  126,  163. 

Aquinas,  Thomas,  162,  170,  189, 
191  *ff.,  511;  Duns  Scotus  and, 
226. 

Arabians,  philosophy  of,  181*  ff. 

Arcesilaus,  75,  117*f. 

Archilochus,  9. 

Archytas,  20. 

Aretinus,  Leonardus,  229. 

Arianism,  144. 

Aristarchus,  22. 

Aristippus,   58. 

Aristobulus,   122. 

Aristophanes,  43,  44. 

Aristotelianism,  229,  231  f.;  opposi- 
tion to,  232  f.,  247,  248. 

Aristotelian  realism,  162  f.,  167. 

Aristotle,  12,  59,  75*  ff.,  94,  123, 
163,  269,  331,  371,  488;  in  Ara- 
bian philosophy,  180  ff.;  in  Chris- 


tian   theology,    188f,    225  f.;    ii 
medieval  philosophy,  180  f.,  188  ff.j 
in  the  Renaissance,  231  f.,  232  f.j 
works    of,    in    Middle    Ages,    163, 
174,  180  f. 
Aristoxenus,  94. 
Arnauld,  A.,  273,  288. 
Arnold,  E.,  493. 
Arnold  of  Brescia,  223. 
Arius,  144. 

Art,  72,  229,  455,  476,  484  f. 
Artistic  intuition,  457. 
Arystillus,  122  n. 

Asceticism,    58,    68,    69,    70  f.,    95, 

121,     125,     131,     138,     142,     146, 

151  ff.,  201,  249,  489  f.,  575,  576  f, 

Asharites,  183. 

Association     of    ideas,     88,     331  f., 

348  f.,  482  ff.,  518  ff.,  528  f.,  533. 
Astrology,  206,  233  f.,  235,  263. 
Astronomy,  17,  21  f.,  86  f.,  235,  237. 
Ataraxia,  118. 
Athanasius,  144. 
Atheism,  335,  342,  563. 
Athenagoras,  140. 
Atom,  15  f.,  37  ff.,  99  ff.,  188  f.,  280, 

370. 
Atomism,  15  f.,  31,  36*  ff.,  86,  99  ff., 

237,  370. 
Atticus,  103. 
Attraction,  32,  344. 
Attribute,  267,   280,   293,   296,  311, 
316  f.,    318  f.,    365,    367;    infinite, 
296  f. 

Aufkldrung,     381,    385  f.     See    En- 
lightenment. 

Augustine,  147*  ff.,  225,  246  ff. 
Augustinianism,  158,  169,  176,  189, 

203  f.,  207  ff.,  289,  291. 
Augusti nus  Triumphus,  223. 
Authority,  148,   158  ff.,   169,  227  fr., 

250.    See  also  Faith. 
Autonomy,  424. 
Avempace,  186. 
Avenarius,  R.,  566. 
Avendeath,  J.,  180  n. 
Averroes,  186*  ff.,  281. 
Averroists,  232,  294. 
Avicebron,  188. 
Avicenna,  184. 
Ayala,  244. 


INDEX 


aeon,    F.,   251,    254,    255*  ff.,   285, 
307,  332,  392. 

aeon,    R.,    190,    204,    205*  f.,    208, 
362. 

ikewell,  C.  M.,  562. 
afiez,  203. 
arclay,  W.,  325  n. 
arnabas,  Epistle  of,  138. 
asedow,  J.  B.,  390.  ^ 

asil  the  Great,  145. 
auer,  B.,  477. 
aumgarten,  A.,  381,  388. 
awden,  H.,  574. 
ayle,    P.,    246,    254,    291*  f.,    384, 

392. 

eattie,  J.,  364. 
eck,  J.  S.,  428. 
eda  Venerabilis,  157. 
ekker,  B.,  288. 
lellarmin,  244. 

\ellwm,  omnium  contra  omnes,  269. 
teneke,  F.  H.,  485*,  492. 
Jentham,  J.,  517  f.,  5321 
Jerengar  of  Tours,  167. 
Berkeley,  G.,  254,  329,  335*  ff.,  345, 

386,  392,  494. 

ergson,  H.,  512,  577*  ff.,  585,  586. 
Jernard  of  Chartre8,  174,  225. 
Jernard  of  Ciairvaux,  176. 
Jernard  of  Tours,  174. 
Jerzelius,  J.  J.,  388. 
Jessarion,  230. 
Jible,  228   246. 
Jichat,  M.,  388. 
Jiel,  G.,  217. 
Jilfinger,  G.  B.,  381. 

iologV,  87,  371,  387  f,  420  f.,  453, 

486  f.,  495  f.,  508,  542  f. 
Black  arts,  235. 
blessedness,  151  f.,  198. 
Block-universe,   566,  569  f.,  587. 
Blondel,  G.,  574. 
Boccaccio,  229. 
Bodin,  J.,  243. 
Body    and    Mind.     Bet    Mind    and 

Body. 
Boehme,  J-,  248*  f.,  450 

Boethius,  132,  157,  163,  167,  187. 
Bogomils,  224. 
Bonaventura,  177,  203*  f. 
de  Bonnet,  C.,  331,  388. 


Boodin,  J.  E.,  574. 

Bordaa-Demoulin,  J.,  611. 

Bosanquet,  B.,  549. 

Boutroux,  E.,  512. 

Bowne,  B.  P.,  562. 

Boyle,  R.,  237,  238. 

Bradley,   F.   H.,   549,   555*  ff.,  563, 

568. 

Bradwardine,  Thomas,  203. 
Brandis,  C.  A.,  477. 

Brotherhood,  115. 

Brothers  of  Common  Life,  218. 

Brothers  of  Sincerity,  183. 

Brown,  T.,  364. 

Browne,  P.,  329,  333. 

Bruno,  G.,  23T  f  •,  294. 

Biichner,  L.,  492. 

Buckle,  T.,  532  n. 

Buffon,  G.,  387  f. 

Buridan,  217. 

Burleigh,  Walter,  214. 

Butler,  J.,  330,  333*  f.,  534. 

Cabala,  233,  256,  294. 
Cabanis,  P.,  387,  504. 
Csesalpinus,  232. 
Caird,  E.,  549. 
Caird,  J.,  549. 
Calkins,  M.  W.,  562. 
Callicles,  46  f. 
Callimachus,  122. 
Calvin,  J.,  247. 
Cambridge  School,  362,  513. 
Campanella,  T.,  239  f. 
Canonic,  98. 

Capella,  Martianus,  157,  1*3,  167. 
Capreolus,  J.,  203. 
Garden,  235. 
Carlyle,  T.,  549. 
Carneades,  75,  117*1 
Cartesian  School,  21 
Cmwiodorut,  157,  163. 
Catechetical  School,  140 
Categorical  imperative,  4 
Categories  62,  81  f.,  til.  WO.  JTJ 
402ff,437.4S4f..4W.4S3f.,4aj, 

496,  4W,  513  f..  524  f., 
569,  575,  589  ff. 


596 


INDEX 


296,  298  f.,  312,  344  f.,  348  ff., 
372,  379,  403,  405,  412  ff.,  497, 
515,  521  ff.,  539  f. 

Celsus,  126. 

Cerinthus,   139. 

Chalcedon,  Synod  of,  145. 

Chalcidius,  167. 

Chalybaeus,  H.  M.,  477. 

Chance,  511  f. 

Change,  15,  16,  17,  18,  26  ff.,  30  ff., 
82  f.,  86,  481  f.,  577  ff. 

Charlemagne,  157. 

Charron,  P.,  246. 

Chartres,  School  of,  174  f. 

Chemistry,  235,  237. 

Christian  culture  and  barbarism, 
155  ff. 

Christian  ethics,  133  f.,  142,  151  ff., 
576;  Greek  ethics  and,  198 ff.; 
Kant  and,  426. 

Christian  philosophy,  133  ff. 

Christian  Platonism,  362.  See  also 
Augustinianism. 

Christian  schools,  157  f. 

Christian  theology,  development  of, 
137  ff. 

Christianity,  121,  131,  132;  begin- 
nings of,  133ff.;  classical  culture 
and,  134  f.;  Greek  philosophy  and, 
135  ff.;  and  life,  152  f. 

Christological  problem,  145. 

Chrysippus,   104,  113. 

Chrysoloras,  Manuel,  229. 

Chubb,  T.,  330. 

Church  and  State,  159,  202  f.,  222  f., 
241.  See  also  Politics. 

Cicero,  120. 

City  of  God,  153. 

Clarke,  S.,  332,  362*. 

Classical  culture,  228  ff.;  Christian- 
ity and,  134  f. 

Classification,  61;  of  sciences,  260, 
265,  274,  508  f. 

Clauberg,  J.,  288. 

Claudianus  Mamertus,  163. 

Cleanthes,  104. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  140. 

Clement,  Epistle  of,  138. 

Clifford,  W.,  566. 

Clitomachus,  117. 

Cogito,  ergo  sum,  276. 


Cohen,  H.,  493. 

Coincidence  of  opposites,  231.     See 

Opposites,  Union  of. 
Coleridge,  S.  T.,  549. 
Collins,  A.,  330. 
Columbus,  205. 
Common  sense,  88. 
Common  sense,   philosophy  of,  118, 

119f.,    363*  f.,    371,    373,    379  ff., 

504. 

Communism,  19,  72. 
Comte,  A.,  505*  ff.,  517,  535. 
Concepts.     See  Ideas,   Nominalism, 

Realism,  and  Universals. 
Conceptualism,  173. 
Conceptual  thought.    See  Discursive 

Thought. 

Concomitance,  372. 
Concrete  universal,  467  ff. 
Condillac,  E.,  329,  331*,   503  f. 
Conditioned,  law  of,  514  f. 
Condorcet,  M.,  331,  388. 
Conscience,  46  f.,  174,  200,  228,  322, 

332  ff.,  455  ff. 
Conservation    of   energy,    367,    492, 

540;  of  motion,  281,  367,  540  f. 
Constitutive  use  of  reason,  417  f. 
Contemptus  mundi,  151. 
Continuity,   principle   of,   367,   370, 

371,  373,  417  f.,  511. 
Contract    theory,    103,    243  f.,    270, 

306,  326. 
Contradiction,    23  f.,    28,    29,    249, 

465  ff.,  479  ff.,  556.     See  also  Op- 
posites, Union  of. 
Conybeare,  J.,  330. 
Copernican  theory,  237. 
Copernicus,  N.,  235,  237,  264. 
Cordemoy,  G.,  228. 
Corinthus,  104. 
Cornutus,  120. 
Corpuscles,  280,  321,  341. 
Cosmogony,  9  ff.,  66  f. 
Cosmological        argument,        149  f , 

169  f.,    195,    211,    262,    267,    296, 

322,  358,  373;  criticism  of,  415. 
Cosmology,      64  ff.,      85  ff.,      109  ff, 

410  ff. 

Cosmopolitanism,  114. 
Cournot,  A.,  511  f. 
Cousin,  V.,  504,  511. 


INDEX 


597 


Crates,  75,  104. 

Creatio  continua,  149. 

Creation,  124,  127,  128,  141  f.,  149, 

164,   196. 
Creationism,  151. 

Creative  evolution,  451  ff.,  579,  587. 
Creative  reason,  88  ff.,  185,  198.    See 

also  Logos. 

Creed,  135f.;  Nioene,  144  f. 
Creighton,  J.  E.,  562. 
Cremonini,  232. 
Creskas,  294  n. 
Critical  idealism,  525. 
Critical  philosophy,  391    ff.;  revival 

of,  493  f.    See  Knowledge,  Theory 

of. 

Critical  realism,  499. 
Cudworth,  R.,  332,  362*. 
Culture,    Christianity    and,    134  f., 

157  f.,  179  f. 
Cumberland,  R.,  332. 
Cusa,  Nicolas  of,  230*  f.,  239. 
Cynics,  58,  95,  104. 
Cyprian,  140. 
Cyrenaics,  58,  95,  97. 
Czolbe,  H.,  492. 

Damascius,  132. 

Dante,  203,  223,  229. 

Dark  Ages,   155ff. 

Darwin,  C.,  371,  388,  492,  543. 

Darwin,  E.,  331,  385. 

Darwinian  theory,  237,  54£  f. 

David  of  Dinant,   178,  225. 

Davy,  H.,  388. 

Deduction,  54  f.,  61  f.,  80  f.,  107, 
117  f.,  161,  208  f.,  211,  238, 
255  ff.,  265,  275  f.,  292  ff.,  314  f., 
324,  349,  374,  378  f.,  479  f.,  525, 
528  ff.,  635  f.,  542.  See  also  Syl- 
logism, and  Transcendental 
Method. 

Definition,  53  f. 

De  generibus  et  speciebus,  171  f. 

Deism,  245,  330*  f.,  381,  383  f.,  385. 

Demiurge,  66,  74,  75,  137,  138. 

Democracy,  8,  159,  223,  250,  327  ff., 
329,  383  f.,  388  ff.,  504  ff.,  610, 
533  f. 

Democritus,  36*  ff.,  85,  96,  116,  237, 
260,  370. 


Demonology,   /31. 

Demonstrative  knowledge,  254.  Bee 
also  Deduction. 

Descartes,  R.,  254,  264,  266,  272*  ff., 
307,  345,  362,  365,  369,  370,  386, 
392;  Leibniz  and,  366;  Spinoza 
and,  292  f.,  294. 

Description,  564  ff. 

Design,  argument  from.  See  Tele- 
©logical  Argument,  and  Teleology. 

Destutt  de  Tracy,  A.,  387. 

Determinism,  110,  113,  154  f.,  198, 
268  f.,  295,  303,  325,  356  f.,  374, 
375,  384,  393,  411,  412  ff.,  420, 
444  f.,  527  f.,  552  f.,  562,  567.  See 
also  Free  Will,  and  Original  Sin. 

Development,  82  ff.,  87,  380.  Bee 
also  Evolution. 

Dewey,  J.,  555,  571*ff. 

Dialectical  method,  467  ff. 

Dialectical  process,  453,  465  f. 

Dialectics,  26,  29  f.,  43,  45,  52  ff., 
57,  60  ff.,  117,  409  ff.,  460.  See 
also  Logic. 

Dialogues  of  Plato,  59. 

Dianoetical  virtues,  90. 

Dicaearchus,  94. 

Diderot,  D.,  387  f.,  506. 

Dietrich  of  Freiberg,  205. 

Digby,  E.,  256. 

Dilthey,  W.,  501  f. 

Diodorus,  58. 

Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  18. 

Diogenes  of  Babylon,  104. 

Dionysius,  59. 

Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  145,  163, 

164,  166,   178. 
Discontinuity,  511. 

Discursive  thought,  60  ff.,  84,  128  f., 

165,  231,  393,  433,  437  ff.,  456  f.. 
459  f.,  467  f .,  556,  663  ff.,  677  ff., 
683  ff. 

Dogma,  135  f. 

Dogmatism,    12,  48,  «87,  1ft,  3M. 

398,  439. 

Dominic  of  Flandera,  SOS. 
Dominicans,  179,  207. 
Dorner,  A.,  4M. 
Doxa,  60. 
Dualism,  13.  16,  66,  66,  76  f..  121  ff.. 

123  f.,  146,  151,  231,  281  ff.,  287, 


598 


INDEX 


293,  318  ff.,  342  f.,  370,  380,  460, 

578  f. 

A(wa/Mf,  76,  83. 
Duns    Scotus,    John,    162,    207*  ff., 

278;  Aquinas  and,  226. 
Durand,  William,  208,  215. 
Duree,  578. 
Durkheim,  E.,  511. 
Dynamism,  22  ff.,  76,  82  f.,  86,  367, 

433  f.,   442  ff.,   448  f.,   450  ff.,  461, 

462  ff.,  496  f.,  539  ff.,  577  ff.,  583, 

585  f. 

Eckhart,  218*  ff.,  249. 

Economy,  law  of,  409,  565. 

Eclecticism,  119ff.,  125,  381. 

Ecphantus,  22. 

Ecstasy,  125,  131,  166,  177,  200  f., 
221. 

Education,  44  f.,  72  f.,  157,  159,  240, 
328  f.,  390,  484. 

Ego,  331,  355,  407  f.,  433  ff.,  482  f., 
496,  565;  absolute,  441  ff.,  450  f.; 
absolute,  and  individual,  442  ff., 
525  f.  See  also  Soul-Substance. 

Egoism,  91,  101  ff.,  269  ff.,  300  f., 
304  ff.,  324,  332,  489  f.,  546  ff. 
See  also  Individualism,  and  So- 
ciety. 

Einhard,  158. 

Elan  vital,  578. 

Elean  school,  58,  116. 

Eleatic  school,  22  f .,  26*  ff. 

Elements,  14  ff.,  16,  17,  18,  19  ff., 
22,  30  ff.,  86,  109  f.,  234. 

Emanation,  theory  of,  13,  126  ff., 
141  ff.,  181  ff. 

Emotions,  284  ff.,  303  f.,  482  f.  See 
also  Passions. 

Empedocles,  15,  31,  31*  ff.,  64. 

Empiricism,  98  ff.,  106  f.,  216  f., 
218  ff.,  252  ff.,  255  ff.,  307  ff., 
345  ff.,  516  ff.,  535  ff.,  573;  cri- 
tique of,  25,  29,  60  ff.,  362  ff.,  376, 
513  ff.,  568  f.;  rationalism  and, 
252  ff.,  263,  264,  335  ff.,  345  ff., 
391  ff.,  516  ff.,  551,  568  f.;  recon- 
ciliation of  empiricism  and  ra- 
tionalism, 81,  378  ff.,  394  f.,  535  f. 

Encyclopedia  of  the  Sciences,  183. 

Encyclopedias,  181. 


Encyclopedists,  331,  503. 

'Evtpyeia,  83. 

Energy,  conservation  of,  367,  492, 
540. 

Engel,  J.  J.,  381. 

English  ethics,  332  ff.,  385. 

Enlightenment,    Greek,    40  ff. ;    me- 1 
dieval,  227  ff. ;   modern,  329,  365, 
380  ff. 

'EvreAe^em,  83. 

Entelechy,  83,  197,  370. 

Epictetus,  104. 

Epicureanism,  13,  58,  94*  ff.,  232. 

Epicurus,  13,  97*  ff.,  116,  238. 

Epigenesis,  371. 

Epiphenomenalism,  268,  562,  571. 

'ETriarqw,  61,  78,  107. 

Epistemology.  See  Knowledge,  The- 
ory of. 

Equality,  93,  115,  250,  326,  383, 
388  f.,  576.  See  also  Democracy, 
and  Politics. 

Eratosthenes,  122. 

Erdmann,  B.,  493. 

Erdmann,  J.  E.,  296,  477. 

Eric  of  Auxerre,  167. 

Erigena,  John  Scotus,  158,  164*  ff., 
224. 

Eristic,   58. 

Eros,  61,   68  f. 

Error,  279,  302  f.,  558. 

Ethical  idealism,  64,  434  f.,  441, 
496  f.,  500  ff. 

Ethical  skepticism,  46  ff. 

Ethics,  9f.,  11,  12  f.,  19,  21,  25  f., 
40,  42  ff.,  45,  46  f.,  49,  55,  56  ff., 
60,  69  ff.,  89  ff.,  94  ff.,  101  ff., 
lllff.,  115  f.,  133  f.,  151  ff., 
173  f.,  198  ff.,  212  ff.,  261,  269  ff., 
274,  285,  305  ff.,  322  ff.,  332  ff., 
374  ff.,  421  ff.,  445  ff.,  474  ff.,  484, 
488  ff.,  507  ff.,  532  ff.,  545  ff., 
553  ff.,  570,  571  f.,  576  f. 

Ethology,  529. 

Eubulides,  58. 

Eucken,  R.,  502*  f.,  563. 
Euclid,  122. 
Euclides,  57. 
Eudaemonia,  89. 
Eudemus,  94. 
Eudoxus,  75. 


INDEX 


399 


Eugenics,  72. 

Euler,  L.,  388. 

Euripides,  41,  43. 

Euthydemus,  46. 

Evangelical  counsels,  201. 

Evil,  66,  llOf.,   124,   125,  129,  138, 

150,  165  f.,  201  f.,  279,  374. 
Evolution,   18,   32  f.,   370,   371,  380, 
387  f.,  428,  431,  433,  448  f.,  451  ff., 
462  ff.,  469  ff.,  496,  500,  541  f.,  547, 
57  Iff.,  577  ff. 
Evolutionary  logic,  572  ff. 
Evolutionism,  386,  535  ff.,  551  f. 
Experiment,  256. 
External  relations,  481,  580  f. 
External  world,  279  f .,  335  ff .,  354  f., 
440  f.,  525  f.,  544  f. 

Faculty-psychology,  482  f. 

Faith,  knowledge  and,  138,  140, 
148  f.,  160  f.,  163,  164,  169,  173, 
191  f.,  203  f.,  208  f.,  214  ff.,  216, 
218,  221  f.,  226  f.,  227,  262,  278, 
318,  379,  381  f.,  393,  428  ff.,  459  f., 
563,  567,  570,  571  ff.,  583  ff. 

Faith-philosophy,  253,  254,  381  f., 
393,  428  ff.  See  Mysticism. 

Fall  of  man,  68,  125,  128,  130,  139, 
140,  143,  146  f.,  153  ff.,  165  f., 
202. 

Fathers,  135,  137*  ff.,  160. 

Faust,  234. 

Feclmer,  Th.,  494,  498*. 

Ferguson,  A.,  329,  333,  381. 

Feuerbach,  L.,  477. 

Fichte,  J.  G.,  427,  431*  ff.,  453, 
454  f.,  458  f.,  460,  461,  468,  478, 
485,  491,  495,  500  ff.,  656,  563, 
685,  586. 

Fichte,  J.  H.,  477. 

Ficinus,  Marsilius,  230. 

Fidanza.    See  Bonaventura. 

Filmer,  R.,  325. 

Final  causes.    See  Teleology. 

First  mover,  85,  289. 

First  philosophy,  78  f.,  260,  266. 

Fischer,  K.,  296,  477,  493. 

Florentine  Academy,  230. 

Fludd,  R.,  234. 

Force,  367  f.,  639  f.,  640.  8w  also 
Dynamitm. 


de  la  Forge,  L.,  288. 

Forms,  63  ff.;  Aristotelian,  76, 
78 ff.;  Baconian,  258 f.  Set  Ideas, 
and  Universals. 

Fortlage,  K.,  493. 

Fortuitism,  570. 

Fouillee,  A.,  512  f. 

Fourth  Gospel,  138. 

Francis  of  Assisi,  204. 

Francis  of  Mayronis,  214. 

Franciscans,  179,  207. 

Francke,  A.  H.,  382. 

Frank,  S.,  248. 

Fredegisus,  158. 

Freedom,  as  principle,  433  f.,  450  ff. 

Free  thought,  progress  of,  40  ff., 
182ff.,  22  Iff.,  227  ff.,  250  ff., 
382  ff. 

Free  Will,  100,  110,  111,  113,  125, 
130,  142,  146  f.,  153  ff.,  165  f.,  174, 
198,  202,  212,  279,  286,  287,  304, 
325,  356  f.,  375,  382  ff.,  410,  411, 
412  ff.,  421,  424,  429,  431  ff., 
436  ff.,  444  f.,  456  f.,  461,  475, 
489,  511,  527  f.,  535,  537,  552  f., 
562  f.,  567,  579,  582. 

French  Enlightenment,  291. 

French  Revolution,  383. 

Fries,  J.,  430,  485,  492. 

Froebel,  F.,  390. 

Fulbert,  167. 

Gabler,  G.  A.,  477. 

Gale,  Th.,  362. 

Galen,  126. 

Galileo,    G.,    237  f.,    264,   281,    288, 

507. 

Gall,  F.  J.,  608. 
Callus,  T.,  177. 
Galvani,  L.,  388. 
Gardiner,  H.,  682. 
Garve,  C.,  381,  426. 
Oassendi,  P.,  238,  264,  271. 
Gaunilo,  170. 
Gay,  J.,  331. 
Gellert,  C.  P.,  386. 
Gennadius,  230. 
Gentile.  A.,  243,  244. 
Geocentric  theory,  22. 
Geometric  method.  292  ff..  456. 
Georgius  of  Trebisond,  230. 


600 


INDEX 


Gerbert,  167. 

German  culture,  364  f. 

German  Theology,  218,  221. 

Germanic  mysticism,  218. 

Gerson,  J.,  217,  218. 

Geulincx,  A.,  288,  289*. 

Gilbert  of  Poitiers,  174,  225. 

Gilbert,  William,  256. 

Glanvil,  J.,  246. 

Gnomic  poets,  9. 

Gnostics,  138  f. 

God,  proofs  for  existence  of,  85, 
149  f.,  169  f.,  195  f.,  211,  216,  262, 
277  ff.,  322,  357  ff.,  360  f.,  373  f., 
415  f.,  515;  critique  of,  118,  195  f., 

211,  216,  357  ff.,  415  ff.     See  Ab- 
solute, and  Theology. 

Godwin,  W.,  385. 

Goeschel,  K.   F.,  477. 

Goethe,  J.  W.,  386,  391,  432  f.,  448, 

457  f.,  461. 
Golden  mean,  90. 
Gomperz,  Th.,  41. 
Gorgias,  46. 

Gottfried  of  Fontaines,  203. 
Gottsched,  J.  C.,  291,  386. 
Grace,    152,    154  f.,    199,    202,    204, 

212,  221. 
Grammar,  105. 
Gravitation,  344. 
Greathead,  Robert,  181. 

Greek  Church,  Roman  and,  145. 

Greek  civilization,  7  ff . 

Greek    ethics,     resum6     of,     115  f.; 

Christian  ethics  and,  201. 
Greek  literature,  9  f . ;  in  Italy,  229. 
Greek  philosophy,  Christianity  and, 

135  ff.;  Judaism  and,  120  ff. 
Green,  T.  H.,  533,  549,  550*  ff. 
Gregory  VII,  222. 
Gregory  of  Nazianzen,   145. 
Gregory  of  Nyssa,  145. 
Gregory  of  Rimini,  217. 
Groot,  G.  de,  218. 
Grote,   G.,  48. 
Grotius,  H.,  243  f. 
Gundisalvi,  180  n.,  181. 
Guyau,  J.  M.,  512  f. 

Hades,  143. 
Haeckel,  E.,  492. 


Haller,  A.,  388. 

Hamann,  J.  G.,  381,  426,  430. 

Hamilton,    W.,    364,    513,    514*  ff., 

535  f.,  549. 

Happiness.    See  Hedonism. 
Harmony,   20  ff.,  24,   63  f.,   65,   109, 

129,   366;    of   spheres,  22;    prees- 

tablished,  372. 
Harnack,  A.,  140,  144. 
Harris,  W.  T.,  562. 
Hartley,  D.,  329,  331,  387,  517  f. 
Hartmann,  E.  von,  490*  f.,  494. 
Harvey,  W.,  264. 
Haiiy,  R.  J.,  388. 
Haym,  R.,  493. 
Hedonism,   13,  40,  58,  92,  95  f.,  99, 

101  ff.,    115  f.,   322  ff.,   332  f.,   376, 

421  f.,  425,  522  ff.,  546  f.,  551,  554. 
Hegel,  G.  F.  W.,  48,  296,  427,  432  f., 

453,  462*  ff.,  485,  490  f.,  504,  549, 

556,  563,  581,  585  f.;  predecessors 

of,  462  f. 
Hegelian     school,    476  f.     See    also 

Neohegelians. 
Hegelianism,     opposition     to,     478, 

491  f. 

Heinze,  M.,  59. 
Heliocentric  theory,  22. 
van  Helmont,  J.  B.,  234. 
van  Helmont,  F.  M.,  234. 
Helvetius,  C.,  329,  331,  334*,  388. 
Hembucht,  H.,  217. 
Hemming,  N.,  244. 
Henry  of  Brabant,  181. 
Henry  of  Ghent,  189,  208. 
Heraclides,  22. 
Heraclides  of  Pontus,  75. 
Heraclitus,  15,  22*  ff.,  62,  64,  104. 
Herbart,    J.    F.,    478*  ff.,    492,    498, 

563. 

Herbert  of  Cherbury,  230,  245. 
Herder,  J.  G.,  381,  386,  391,  428*  f., 

430,  431,  432  f.,  448,  453,  461. 
Heresies,  139,  206,  224  ff.     See  alst 

Pantheism. 
Hermann,  K.  F.,  59. 
Hermann,  W.,  494. 
Hermas,  Shepherd  of,  138. 
Herocles,  104. 
Herodotus,  41. 
Herschel,  W.,  388. 


INDEX 


601 


Elertz,  H.,  566. 

3erv6  of  Nedellec,  203. 

Elesiod,  9. 

lestiseus,  75. 

Hibben,  J.  G.,  562. 

Hicetas,  22. 

Binrichs,  H.  F.  W.,  477. 

3ippo,  18. 

Bippocrates,  41,  43. 

Hippolytus,  16,  140. 

Hirnheim,  H.,  246. 

Historical  view,  361,  428,  431,  433, 

448  f.,  451  ff.     See  also  Evolution. 
Hobbes,  T.,   243,   254,   263*  ff.,   273, 

285,  288,  307,  331,  332,  334,  345, 

362,  392. 

Hocking,  W.  E.,  562. 
Holbach,  Baron  P.,  387,  503. 
Holcot,  Robert,  217. 
Holt,  E.  B.,  581. 
Homer,  9,  10. 
Homoiomere,  34. 
Homoiousios,  145. 
Homoousios,  145. 
Hooker,  R.,  325  n. 
Horace,  103. 
Howison,  G.  H.,  562. 
Huet,  P.,  246. 
Hufeland,  G.,  427. 
Hugo  of  Rouen,  175. 
Hugo  of  St.  Victor,  175,  176. 
Humanism,    11,    12,    13,   40  ff.,   228, 

345.     See  also  Pragmatism. 
Humanitarianism,     116,     383,    424, 

510  f. 

Humboldt,  A.  von,  388. 
Hume,  D.,  254,  290,  291,  329,  331, 

332,  345*  ff.,  362,  392  f.,  395,  398, 

494,    506,   513,    516  ff.,    528,    532, 

535,  551,  562,  564. 
Huss,  J.,  224. 

Hutcheson,  F.,  329,  332,  532. 
Hylozoism,  12,  15,  27,  84,  108,  421. 
Hymn  of  Cleanthes,  105. 
Hypatia,  132. 

Iconoclasts,  248. 

Ideeus,  18. 

Idealism,  58  ff.,  62  ff.,  272,  288  f.t 
335  ff.,  364  ff.,  431  ff.,  440,  441  ff., 
448  ff.,  458  f.,  462  ff.,  435  ff., 


491  ff.,  494  ff.,  51  Iff.,  525  f., 
549  ff.;  subjective,  335  ff.,  354, 
400,  428  f.,  440  f.,  563,  565  f., 
569  f.  See  Realism,  Medieval. 

Ideas,  63  ff.,  78  ff.,  124,  128  ff.,  142, 
310  ff.,  335  ff.,  345,  347  f.  Bee 
Universals. 

Idees-forces,  512  f. 

Idola,  257. 

Ignatius,  138. 

Imitation  of  Christ,  218. 

Implicit  knowledge,  62,  80,  371,  376, 
452,  465. 

Impressions,  ideas  and,  345,  347  f. 

Immanency,  74,  76,  83,  165,  296. 

Immanent  philosophy,  494. 

Immediate  experience,  573.  See 
Pure  Experience. 

Immortality,  19,  39,  68,  89,  101, 
111,  134,  142,  151,  197,  232,  307, 
357,  410,  421  f.,  425,  462,  497,  580. 

Incarnation,  141  ff.,  145. 

Incasement  theory,  371. 

Inconceivability,  514  f.,  525. 

Indiscernibles,  principle  of,  370. 

Individual,  194  f.,  210  f.,  215,  368, 
379,  562  f.  See  also  Society. 

Individualism,  43  ff.,  46  ff.,  49  ff.,  91, 
101  ff.,  250  ff.,  269  ff.,  304  ff.,  324, 
325  ff.,  329,  332,  333  f.,  370,  382  ft*., 
449,  461  f.,  546  ff.,  562,  566  ff., 
573,  574  ff. 

Individuation,  principle  of,  194  f., 
210  f. 

Induction,  53  f.,  61,  80,  81,  216, 
257  ff.,  519  ff.;  methods  of,  259, 
266. 

Industrialism,  510. 

Inference.  See  Deduction,  and  In- 
duction. 

Infinitesimal  calculus,  365. 

Infinity,  277  f.,  311  f.,  321  f. 

Innate*  truths,  62,  80,  253.  277  f., 
286, 345, 378  f . ;  criticism  of,  309  ff. 
Bee  also  A  priori  Knowledge. 

Instrumental  ism.     £«•  Pragmatism. 

Intellect     8n  Discursive  Thought 

Intellect,  will  and.  197  f..  212  f.. 
298  f.,  303;  in  God,  295  f. 

Intellectual  intuition,  400,  432,  438, 
441,  456. 


602 


INDEX 


Intellectual  love  of  God,  307. 

Intelligible  species,  193. 

Intention,  174. 

Interaction,  282  f.,  288,  289,  300  f., 
319  f.,  365,  497.  Bee  also  Mind 
and  Body. 

Introjection,  566. 

Intuition,  84,  128,  130,  148,  199, 
205  f.,  215  f.,  253,  302,  398  ff., 
429  f.,  438,  449,  455  ff.,  460,  461, 
557  ff.,  568  f.,  577  ff.,  587  ff. 

Intuitive  knowledge,  314. 

lonians,  12,  16  ff. 

Irenams,  140,  142. 

Isidore  of  Seville,  157,  163. 

Isidorus,  132. 

Jacobi,  F.  H.,  381,  429*  f.,  449,  458. 

Jacoby,  G.,  574. 

Jamblichus,  126,  132*. 

James,  W.,  512,  566*  ff.,  577. 

Jansenism,  288,  290  f. 

Jerusalem,  W.,  574. 

Jesuits,  244. 

Jesus  Christ,  133  f.,  139,  141. 

Jewish  Cabala,  233. 

Jewish-Greek  philosophy,  120  ff. 

Jewish  philosophy,  188. 

Joachim  of  Floris,  178,  223,  225. 

Johannes  Grammaticus,  145. 

Johannes  Philoponus,  145. 

John     Duns      Scotus.       See    Duns 

Scotus. 

John  of  Bassolis,  214. 
John  of  Brescia,  208. 
John  of  Damascus,  156. 
John  of  Salisbury,  175,  225. 
John  Scotus  Erigena.     See  Erigena. 
Jouffroy,  Th.,  364,  504. 
Judaism,  121  f.,  133. 
Julian  the  Apostate,  132. 
Julius  II,  229. 
Justice,    46  ff.,    53  f.,    70,    71  ff.,   91, 

103,  114,  250,  269  f.,   547  f.     See 

Natural  Rights. 
Justin  the  Martyr,  140,  142. 
Justinian,  132. 

Kaftan,  J.,  494. 

Kant,  I.,  286,  329,  378,  386,  391, 
391*  ff..  434,  4581,  460,  467  f., 


478,  485  f.,  491  ff.,  494,  500  f.,  511, 
513  f.,  536,  549,  551,  650,  684  f. 

Katharsis,  131. 

Kehrbach,  K.,  493. 

Kepler,  J.,  237  f.,  507. 

Kilwardby,  Robert,  181,  208. 

Knowledge,  faith  and.    See  Faith. 

Knowledge,  relativity  of,  515  f., 
537  ff.  See  also  Critical  Philoso- 
phy, and  Skepticism. 

Knowledge,  theory  of,  12,  40  ff.,  46, 
48  ff.,  51  ff.,  60  ff.,  79  ff.,  96,  98  f., 
105  ff.,  148  f.,  194  f.,  255  ff.,  264  f., 
274  ff.,  291,  302  ff.,  307  ff.,  335  ff., 
346  ff.,  375  ff.,  391  ff.,  435  ff., 
448  ff.,  459  f.,  467  f.,  471  f.,  479  f., 
486  ff.,  49  Iff.,  498,  500  ff.,  506  ff., 
513  f.,  516  ff.,  535  ff.,  551,  556  ff., 
559  ff.,  562  f.,  564  ff.,  567  ff., 
571  ff.,  574  f.,  582. 

Knutzen,  M.,  381. 

Kdoyzof  voirr6c ,  64,  128. 

Kostlin,  K.,  494. 

Kvpiai  66f;ai,  97. 

Ladd,  G.  T.,  562. 

Lagrange,  J.  L.,  388. 

Laissez-faire,  250,  334  f.,  534,  548. 

Lamarck,  J.  B.  de,  388. 

Lamarre,  William,  208. 

Lambert,  J.  H.,  381. 

Lambert  of  Auxerre,  204. 

Lamennais,  R.,  511. 

La  Mettrie,  J.  O.  de,  288,  387  f. 

Lange,  F.  A.,  493. 

Lange,  J.  J.,  382. 

Laplace,  P.  S.,  388. 

Lassalle,  F.,  477. 

Lasson,  A.,  219. 

Lavoisier,  A.,  388. 

Law,  19  ff.,  24  f.,  63  f.,  65  f.,  258  f. 

Laws  of  nature,  289,  339,  372  f.,  506. 

See  also  Uniformity. 
Leibniz,     G.     W.,     254,     286,     291, 

364*  ff.,   381,   386,   392,   461,   478, 

495  ff.,  511. 
Leibniz- Wolffian    philosophy,    380  f, 

386  f .,  395,  408. 
Leighton,  J.  A.,  562. 
Leo  X,  229. 
Leo  XIII,  203. 


INDEX 


603 


Basing,  G.,  386,  432  f.,  448. 

Leucippus,  36*  ff. 

Leuwenhoek,  371. 

Le  Vayer,  F.  de  la  Motte,  246. 

lex  ceterna,  199. 

'jex  natures,  199. 

.iberal  arts,  157. 

liberalism.  See  Democracy,  and  In- 
dividualism. 

jiebmann,  0.,  493. 

Jnne",  K.,  388. 

.ittre",  E.,  511. 

jocke,  J.,  243,  245,  254,  286,  307*  ff., 
335,  345,  362,  376,  383,  389  ff., 
392,  395. 

Logic,  9,  llff.,  29  f.,  48  f.,  52  ff., 
60  ff.,  79  ff.,  96,  98  f.,  105  ff.,  161, 
172,  178,  184,  204,  207,  233, 
255  ff.,  261,  264  ff.,  274  ff.,  292  ff., 
303  ff.,  307  ff.,  335  ff.,  345  ff., 
375  ff.,  391  ff.,  435  ff.,  455  ff.,  467, 
471  f.,  479  f.,  491  f.,  493  f.,  506  ff., 
518  ff.,  535  ff.,  568,  572  ff.,  575. 
>gic  and  intuition,  455  ff.,  568, 
577  f. 

>gic  and  metaphysics,  463  f.,  469  ff., 
471  f. 

jogical  ground  and  real  ground,  294, 
379. 

^ogical  judgments,  401  f. 

jOgical-mathematical  method,  457, 
459, 

.ogos,  25,  28,  64,  106,  109,  122*  ff., 
124,  138,  141,  143  ff.,  164  f.,  469. 

Logos-doctrine,  Christian  creed  and, 
143  f. 

Lotze,  H.,  494*  ff.,  498,  500,  549,  563. 

jove  and  Hate,  31,  32. 

Lovejoy,  A.  0.,  562. 

Loyola,  203. 

Lucretius,  98,  101,  103,  238. 
ully,  Raymond,  207. 

Luther,  M.,  221,  244,  247,  251. 

Lutoslawski,  W.,  59. 

Lyceum,  76. 
Lyco,  94. 

Lysis,  20. 

Mach,  E.,  564  ff. 
Machiavelli,  N.,  241. 
Mackenzie,  J.  8.,  iff. 


Macrobius,  132,  163,  167. 

Magic,  131,  206,  233  ff.,  259,  260. 

Maimon,  8.,  428. 

Maimonides,  M.,  188,  190,  294. 

Maine  de  Biran,  F.,  504. 

Maistre,  J.  de,  504. 

Malebranche,  N.,  254,  288,  289*  f., 
386. 

Mandeville,  B.,  334. 

Mani,  146. 

Manichaeans,  146,  147. 

Marcion,  132,  139,  224. 

Marcionites,  224. 

Marcus  Aurelius,  104. 

Mariana,  J.,  244. 

Marius,  132. 

Marsilius  ab  Inghen,  217. 

Marsilius  Ficinus,  230. 

Marsilius  of  Padua,  223. 

Marvin,  W.  T.,  581. 

Marx,  K.,  477. 

Materialism,  13,  36  ff.,  99  ff.,  267  f., 
288,  297,  335,  386  ff.,  439,  487,  492, 
503  f.,  541. 

Mathematics,  19  ff.,  62,  80,  98,  235, 
237,  260,  265,  273,  275,  292  ff., 
343,  345,  353,  366.  37«,  377,  394, 
397  ff.,  407,  524  f. 

Matter,  65  ff.,  75,  76,  82  f.,  108,  124, 
128  ff.,  139,  142,  194  f.,  280  f., 
318  ff.,  335  ff.,  340,  343,  367  f.,  565, 
577,  579.  See  also  Materialism. 

Matters  of  fact,  knowledge  of,  353  f. 

Matthew  of  Aquasparta,  208. 

Maxwell,  J.  C.,  566. 

Mayer,  R.,  492. 

McGilvary,  E.  B.,  581. 

Mechanism,  13,  34,  36  ff.,  86,  Wff., 
236,  237  f.,  238,  260.  265  f.,  272, 
279  ff.,  282,  287  f.,  303,  320,  365, 
372,  386  f.,  431  f.,  584  ff.,  588;  tele- 
ology and,  272,  372  f.,  433,  453  f., 
490  f.,  495,  56.3,  577  ff. 

Mechanistic  psychology,  482  f. 

Medicine,  41,  233,  -2 

Medieval  philosophy,  134  ff. 

Megarinn  school.  57.  104.   114. 

Melanchton,  P..  244,  24S*. 

Meliorism,  570. 

Melissus,  30. 

MondtlMohn,  M.,  381. 


604 


INDEX 


Mental  sciences,  501  f.,  527  ff. 
Mersenne,  Pere,  238,  264,  273. 
Metaphysics,  1  ff.,  9  ff.,  11  ff.,  49,  58, 

63  ff.,  77,  78  f.,  82  ff.,  96,  98,  99  ff., 
107  ff.,  194  f.,  255  ff.,  260,  261  ff., 
267,  274,  318  ff.,  346  f.,  347,  480  ff., 
486  ff.,  494  ff.,  511  f.,  538  f.,  549  ff., 
555  ff. ;  opposition  to,  12,  45,  45  f., 
55,    345,    355,    392,    394,    407  ff., 
491  f.,  502,  507,  562,  564  f.,  571  ff., 
574  ff. 

Middle  Stoa,   105,  120. 

Mill,  James,  331,  517  f.,  528. 

Mill,  J.   S.,  259,  516*ff.,  535,  549, 

551. 

Milton,  J.,  325  n. 
Mind,   11,   12,   16,   25,  28,   31,  38  f., 

64  ff.,    67  f.,     197,    281  ff.,    3001, 
318  ff.,  337,  339,  355  f.,  368  ff.,  387, 
551  ff.;   absolute,   473,  475  f.;   ob- 
jective, 473;  philosophy  of,  451  f.3 
454  f.,  473;   subjective,   473.     See 
also    Ego,    Psychology,    Soul-Sub- 
stance. 

Mind  and  Body,  65,  82,  150,  197,  261, 
266,  281  ff.,  287,  288  f.,  297  f., 
3001,  318  ff.,  351,  3711,  5401, 
543  f.  See  also  Interaction,  Occa- 
sionalism, Parallelism,  and  Psy- 
chology. 

Mirabaud,  387. 

Miracles,  235. 

de  Mirandola,  John  Francis,  233. 

de  Mirandola,  John  Pico,  232,  233. 

Miskaweihi,  183. 

Modalism,  144. 

Modality,  category  of,  403. 

Moderatus,  126. 

Modern  philosophy,  spirit  of,  250  ff. ; 
progress  of,  391  ff. 

Modes,  280,  298  ff.;  ideas  of,  3111; 
infinite  and  necessary,  298  ff. 

Moerbecke,  William,  181. 

Moleschott,  J.,  492. 

Molina,  203. 

Monad,  239,  368  ff.,  496. 

Monasteries,  157. 

Monastic  life,  153;  monastic  orders, 
179;  monastic  schools,  157  f.,  179. 

Monism,  12,  14  ff.,  23  ff.,  26  ff.,  293, 
479,  487,  538  ff.,  570.  See  also 


Absolute,  Idealism,  Materialism, 
and  Pantheism. 

Monotheism.  See  Pantheism,  and 
Theism. 

Montague,  W.  P.,  581. 

Montaigne,  M.,  246. 

Montesquieu,  C.  de,  329,  383,  388. 

Moore,  A.  W.,  574. 

Moore,  G.  E.,  581. 

Moral  argument  for  existence  of 
God,  360,  421  ff.,  425. 

Moral  freedom,  412  ff.,  421. 

Moral  law,  309;  God  and,  213;  nat- 
ural law  and,  4611;  society  and, 
269  ff. 

Moral  sciences,  527  ff.    See  Ethics. 

Moral  skepticism,  43  f. 

Morality,  happiness  and,  421  f.,  425; 
religion  and,  445. 

More,  H.,  362. 

More,  T.,  243. 

Morgan,  T.,  330. 

Motion,  15  f.,  23  f.,  27,  28,  29  1,  34, 
36  ff.,  84,  86,  265,  2801,  2981, 
337,  367,  539  ff.,  578.  See  also 
Materialism,  and  Mechanism. 

Muirhead,  J.  H.,  555. 

Munsterberg,  H.,  501*,  563. 

Miinzer,  T.,  224. 

Musonius,  Rufus,  104,  120. 

Mutazilites,  18&  1 

Mysteries,  Greek,  19,  27,  43,  68,  134. 

Mysticism,  68,  71,  121  ff.,  125,  130, 
131,  151,  166,  175  ff.,  187,  199, 
2001,  2031,  2051,  212,  218  ff., 
225,  227,  229,  2481,  254,  2901, 
3811,  393,  428  ff.,  450,  458,  561, 
570. 

Mythology,  3,  9  ff.,  66,  68,  139. 

Nationalism,   2221,    242,   250,   385 

446  1,  475. 
Natorp,  P.,  494. 
Natura  naturans,  239,  296. 
Natural  law.    See  Natural  Rights. 
Natural     rights,     46  ff.,     112,     114. 

243  1,  269  1,  326,  327,  334  1,  327. 

365,  383,   388  ff.,  547  f.     See  also 

Equality,  Individualism,   Politics. 
Natural  science,  3,  16,  17,  18,  23  1, 

27,  41,  76,  771,  85  ff.,   161,  174, 


INDEX 


605 


178  f.,  180,  182,  190,  204  f.,  215, 
226  f.,  232,  233  ff.,  236  ff.,  250  ff., 
255  ff.,  260,  264  ff.,  272,  308,  317, 
321,  341,  343  f.,  345,  353  f.,  365, 
372,  388,  394,  397  ff.,  407,  449, 
478  ff.,  492,  494  ff.,  505,  506  ff., 
518,  535,  551. 

Natural  selection,  543. 

Naturalism  and  supernaturalism,  11, 
226,  251. 

Mature,  laws  of,  289,  339,  372  f.,  506. 
See  also  Uniformity. 

Mature,  philosophy  of,  12,  14  ff., 
16  ff.,  64  ff.,  85  ff.,  233  ff.,  450  ff., 
472  f.,  486  f. 

Nausiphanes,  97. 

Necessary  connection,  350  ff. 

Necessitarianism.    See  Determinism. 

Neckham,  Alexander,  205. 

kelson,  L.,  430. 

Nemesius,  145,  163. 

Neocriticism,  510  f. 

Neohegelianism,  549  ff. 

Neokantianism,  491  ff.,  511,  549  ff. 

Neoplatonism,  13,  121,  125*  ff.,  140, 
145,  147,  164  ff.,  177  f.,  181  ff., 
219  ff.,  230,  234  f.,  236,  240,  256, 
294,  374. 

Neopythagoreanism,  121,  125*  f. 

Neorealism,  563,  580  f. 

tfew  Academy,  120. 

Newton,  I.,  237,  264,  281,  383,  507. 

Nicsea,  144. 

Nicene  creed,  144  f. 

Nicolai,  F.,  381. 

Nicolas  V,  229. 

Nicolas  d'Autrecourt,  217. 

Nicolas  d'Oresme,  217. 

Nicolas  of  Cusa,  230*  f.,  239. 

Nicolas  of  Paris,  204. 

ficomachus,  126. 

Nietzsche,  F.,  574  ff. 

figidius  Figulus,  126. 

Nominalism,  99,  106,  162,  166  ff., 
214*  ff.,  254,  258,  265,  266,  336  f. 

Morris,  J.,  362. 

Notion,  466  ff. 

Jotker  Labeo,  167. 

foumenon,  406;  phenomenon  and, 
412  ff.  See  Things-in-thpmsolvea. 

lovt,  35,  80,  87  f.,  123  ff.,  128  ff. 


Novalis,  449. 

Novelty,  567,  579,  582,  584,  587,  590. 
Number-theory.    Bee  Pythagorean*. 
Numcnius,  126. 

Objective  reason,  474  f. 

Occam.    See  William  of  Occam. 

Occasionalism,  272,  288  f.,  297. 

Occultism,  233  f. 

Oldendorp,  244. 

Old  Testament,  138f. 

Olympiodorus,  132. 

Olympiodorus  the  younger,  132. 

Ontological  argument,  170  f.,  195, 
278,  415;  criticism  of,  171,  415  f. 

Ontology,  12,  26,  28. 

Opposites,  union  of,  20  f.,  23  ff.,  127, 
231.  See  also  Contradiction,  Dia- 
lectical Method. 

Optimism,  15,  196,  255,  546. 

Organic  conception,  361,  360,  448  f., 
451  ff.,  457  f.,  460  f.,  465  ff.,  467  f., 

469  ff.,  556  ff.,  563.     See  abo  En- 
telechy,  Evolution,  and  Evolution- 
ism. 

Organism,  18,  32  f.,  35,  38,  87,  371, 

542  f. 

Oriental  religion,  13,  120  ff.,  133. 
Origen,  140,  142  f.,  144,  145. 
Original   sin,    125,    130,    143,   146  f., 

153  ff.,  165  f.,  202,  291. 
Ormond,  A.  T.,  562. 
Orphic  mysteries,  43,  68. 
Osiander,  248. 
Ostwald,  W.,  493. 
Oswald,  J.,  364. 
Overman,  46  f.,  576. 

Pagan  virtues,  152. 

Paine,  T.,  385. 

Paley,  W.,  334. 

Palingenesis,  110.  Ill,  130. 

Pametius,  104,  120. 

Panpsychism.  368  ff.,  388,  498. 

Pantcnus,  140. 

Pantheism,  25,  27.  73  f..  109.  125  ff., 

131.    164  ff.,    177  f..   203  f..    219<f., 
•: 

373  n.,    442  ff ..    450.    455,    460  ff .. 

470  f.,  477.  478  f..  487,  497  f.,  603. 
Bee  alto  Absolut*. 


606 


INDEX 


Papini,  G.,  574. 

Paracelsus,  234*  f.,  249. 

Parallelism,  288  f.,  293,  297  f.,  300  f., 
372,  390  f . 

Paris  University,  179. 

Parmenides,  28*  ff.,  62,  64. 

Particulars.    See  Universals. 

Pascal,  B.,  290  f. 

Paschasius  Radbertus,  166. 

Passions,  113,  131,  134,  200,  284  f., 
303  ff.,  482  f . 

Paternalism,  250. 

Patripassianism,  144. 

Patristic.    See  Fathers. 

Patrizzi,  F.,  236. 

Paul,  St.,  138. 

Paulicians,  224. 

Paulsen,  F.,  494,  498. 

Peace,  universal,  447. 

Pearson,  K.,  566. 

Peckham,  John,  204,  208. 

Pelagianism,  146  f. 

Pelagius,  146  f. 

Perceptions  petites,  369  f. 

Pericles,  43. 

Peripatetic  school,  94. 

Permanence  and  change,  15  f.,  22  ff. 

Perry,  R.  B.,  581. 

Persian  dualism,  145. 

Personalism,  511. 

Personality  of  God,  295  f.,  307,  461, 
498;  of  Jesus,  141,  145. 

Pessimism,  23,  151,  488  ff.,  576. 

Pestalozzi,  J.  H.,  390. 

Peter  Aureoli,  215,  216. 

Peter  John  Olivi,  208. 

Peter  of  Poitiers,  175. 

Petrarch,  229. 

Petrus  Damiani,  167. 

Petrus  Hispanus,  204. 

Petrus  Lombardus,  172,  175*,  225. 

Pfleiderer,  O.,  477. 

Phaedo,  58. 

Phariseeism,  134. 

Phenomenalism,  354,  394,  399  ff., 
485  ff.,  495  f.  See  also  Appear- 
ance. 

Phenomenon,  480  ff.,  507. 

Pherecydes,  10. 

Phidias,  43. 

Philip  of  Macedon,  95. 


Philippus  of  Opus,  75. 

Philo  the  Jew,  123*  ff.,  138. 

Philo  of  Larissa,  117,  119*. 

Philolaus,  20. 

Philoponus,  132. 

Philostratus,  126. 

Phocylides,  9. 

Physico-theological  argument,  416  f. 

Physics,  85  ff. 

Physics  of  Aristotle,  178. 

Physiocrats,  334. 

Physiological   psychology,   33,    38  f., 

261,  267  f.,  282,  284  ff.,  305. 
Pietism,  381. 
Pitkin,  W.  B.,  581. 
Pity,  ethics  of,  488  ff.;   critique  of, 

576  f. 

Platner,  Ev  381. 
Plato,  12,  58*  ff.,  75,  79,  82,  94,  147, 

587;       influence      on      Christian 

thought,  74,  162. 

Platonic  Academy,   59,   74  f.,    116f. 
Platonic  Ideas,  488. 
Platonic  realism,  162  f.,  166  ff. 
Platonic  school,  74  f.,  116f. 
Platonic  works  in  Middle  Ages,  162, 

182. 
Platonism,  162,  166  ff.,  229  f.,  289  f., 

362,  366,  370,  511,  513. 
Pletho,  230. 
Plotinus,  126*  ff. 
Pluralism,    15,   20  ff.,   30  ff.,   368  ff., 

370,  478  ff.,  497  f.,  563,  567  ff. 
Plutarch  of  Chaeronea,  126. 
Plutarch  the  younger,  126. 
Poincare",  H.,  566. 
Polemo,  75,  104. 
Political  economy,   334  f.,  509,  513, 

530,  534. 
Politics,  8,  llf.,  19,  43  f.,  45,  46  f?., 

49,  71  ff.,  93  ff.,  103  f.,  113f.,  153, 

159,  202  f.,  222  f.,  240,  241  ff.,  250, 

264  f.,   269  ff.,   306  f.,   325  ff.,  361, 

388  ff.,  474  f.,  509  f.,  529  ff.,  533  :'., 

547  f. 
Polus,  46. 
Polytheism,    3,   9  f .,    27,    39,    101  r.f 

131,  132,  143. 
Pomponazzi,  P.,  232. 
Poppo,  167. 
Popular  philosophy,  381. 


INDEX 


607 


Porphyry,  126,  131*,  182. 

Porphyry's  Introduction  to  the  Cate- 
gories, 131,  163,  167. 

Porta,  232. 

3ort-Royal,  logic  of,  288. 

Posidonius,  120. 

Positive  philosophy,  Spelling's,  450. 

Positivism,  345,  503*  ff.,  517,  562, 
564  ff.;  opposition  to,  511  f. 

Post-Kantian  philosophy,  431  ff. 

Potential  reason,  88. 

Power,  267,  350  ff. 

Pragmatism,  418  f.,  438,  441,  508, 
562,  563,  565,  566*  ff.,  577. 

Predestination,  154  f.,  202. 

Predetermination,  372. 

Preestablished  harmony,  372,  380. 

Preexistence,  67. 

Preformation  theory,  371. 

Pre-Sophistic  philosophy,  7ff.,  12, 
14  ff. 

Price,  R.,  363. 

Priestley,  J.,  331,  387,  388. 

Primary  and  secondary  qualities,  39, 
311,  317,  318,  319,  338,  354. 

Primary  philosophy.  See  Meta- 
physics. 

Primitive    Christianity,    152  f.,   247. 

Probability,  118,  216,  253,  317,  345. 

Proclus,  126,  132*. 

Progress,  509  ff.,  531  f. 

Protagoras,  45,  46. 

Protestantism,  246 ff.;  scholasticism 
and,  247  f.,  365,  366. 

Pseudo-Dionysius.  See  Dionysius 
the  Areopagite. 

Psychology,  18,  25,  33,  38,  67  ff., 
87  f.,  101,  111,  124  f.,  130  f.,  150  f., 
161,  196  ff.,  212,  260  f.,  267  ff., 
281  ff.,  300  ff.,  310  ff.,  339,  355  ff., 
410,  454  f.,  472  f.,  482  ff.,  486  f., 
508  f.,  543  f. 

Piycho-physics,  498. 

Ptolemy,  122. 

Ptolemy  II,  122. 

Pufendorf,  S.,  243  f.,  365. 

Pulleyn,  Robert,  178. 

Pure  experience,  432,  557  f.,  563,  564, 
566,  668  f.,  588. 

Pure  intelligence,  125,  128. 

Pure  knowledge,  398. 


Purgatory,  143. 

Purification,  19,  131. 

Purpose.    Bee  Teleology. 

Pyrrho,  97,  116*f. 

Pyrrhonism,  116*  ff. 

Pythagoras,  18*  ff. 

Pythagorean  brotherhood,  19. 

Pythagoreanism,   15,  18*  ff.,  28,  59, 

68,  121,  125  f.,  230,  233,  235,  365, 

366. 

Qualitative  change,  23  ff. 
Quality,  category  of,  403. 
Quantity,  category  of,  402  f. 
Quesnay,  F.,  334,  388. 

Rabanus  Maurus,  158. 

Radical  empiricism.  See  Pure  Ex- 
perience. 

Ramus,  Petrus,  232*  f.,  256. 

Rashdall,  H.,  555. 

Ratio  cognoscendi,  ratio  essendi  and, 
294,  379. 

Rational  Utilitarianism,  547. 

Rationalism,  11  ff.,  15,  25,  28!.,  39, 
51  ff.,  60  ff.,  73,  136,  184  ff.,  221  ff., 
227  ff.,  250  ff.,  264,  272  ff.,  286  f., 
292  ff.,  362  ff.,  364  ff.,  375  f., 
382  ff.,  39  Iff.,  408  ff.,  431  ff., 
455  ff.,  462  ff.,  51  Iff.,  613  ff., 
562  ff.,  568  f.,  57  Iff.,  574  f., 
582  ff.;  criticism  of,  357  ff.,  389. 
408  ff.,  428  ff.,  459  f.,  478  ff., 
562  ff.  See  also  Empiricism. 

Rationalism  and  Romanticism, 
43  Iff.,  448  f.,  582  ff. 

Ravaisson,  F.,  511. 

Raymond  of  Sabunde,  218. 

Real  ground,  logical  ground  and. 
294,  379. 

Realism,  478  ff.,  644  f.,  563,  580  ff. 

Realism,  medieval,  162  f..  166  ff.. 
169*  ff.,  173,  174  f.,  178,  181  (L. 
194  f.,  217. 

Realism,  natural,  363,  429,  432.  Sit. 

Reals,  481  f. 

Reason  and  authority,  227.  AM  «!to 
Faith. 

Recurrence,  110,  111,  130. 

Redemption.  134.  143.  153, 

Reflection,  331. 


Cos 


INDEX 


Reflection,  sensation  and,  310. 
Reform  of  logic,  175,  232  f.,  572  ff.; 

of  science  and  philosophy,  232  f., 

255  f.,  505  ff.,  518. 
Reformation,  137,  246  ff. 
Regis,  S.,  288. 

Regulative  use  of  reason,  417  f. 
Rehmke,  J.,  494. 
Reicke,  R.,  493. 
Reid,  T.,  363*  f.,  380,  504,  513. 
Reimarus,  S.,  381. 
Reinhard,  167. 
Reinhold,  K.  L.,  426  f.,  434. 
Relation,  category  of,  403. 
Relations,     20  ff.;      external,     481, 

580  f.;  ideas  of,  312  f.;  knowledge 

of,  342;  of  ideas,  353. 
Religion,    3,    10,    13,    19,    49,    114, 

120  ff.,    133,    360,   361,    510.     See 

also  Pantheism,  Theism,  and  The- 
ology. 

Religious  liberty,  243,  251,  383. 
Religious    philosophy,    120  ff.,    245, 

271,  458  ff.,  476,  538  f. 
Religious  reform,  224. 
Remigius,  167. 
Reminiscence,  67. 
Renaissance,  137,  227*  ff. 
Renan,  E.,  511. 

Renouvier,  C.,  511*  f.,  563,  566. 
Resurrection,  142,  202,  343. 
Reuchlin,  J.,  233. 
Revelation,  140,  148,  317  f. 
Revealed    theology,     262;     rational 

theology    and,     191  f ,    209.     See 

Faith. 

Rhetoric,  43. 
Ribot,  Th.,  511. 
Richard  of  Middletown,  208. 
Richard  of  St.  Victor,  176. 
Richter,  F.,  477. 
Rickert,  H.,  501. 
Right,  philosophy  of,  474  f. 
Rights.    See  Natural  Rights. 
Ritschl,  A.,  494. 
Ritter,  C.,  477. 
Robert  of  Melun,  175. 
Robinet,  J.  B.,  387  f. 
Rogers,  A.  K.,  562. 
Roman  philosophy,  119f. 
Roman  Stoicism,  104. 


Romanticism,  448  f.,  458  f.,  556,  577, 

582  ff. 
Roscelin,   168*,   169,    171,   172,   215, 

225. 
Rousseau,    J.     J.,    243,    245,     329, 

388*  ff.,  393. 
Royce,  J.,  549,  559*  ff. 
Royer-Collard,  P.,  364,  504. 
Ruge,  A.,  477. 
Ruskin,  J.,  549. 
Russell,  B.,  581. 
Ruysbroek,  J.,  218. 

Sabellianism,  144,  149,  178. 

Saint-Simon,  C.  H.  de,  504  f. 

Sanchez,  F.,  246. 

Sarchel,  Alexander,  205. 

Saturninus,  139. 

Scaliger,  232. 

Schelling,  F.  W.  J.,  427,  432  f., 
448*  ff.,  458,  461,  466  ff.,  478, 
485,  490  f.,  504,  556,  563,  585,  586. 

Schematism  of  the  understanding, 
405  f. 

Schiller,  Friedrich,  386,  391,  427. 

Schiller,  F.  C.  S.,  574. 

Schlegel,  A.  W.,  449  f. 

Schlegel,  Friedrich,  449. 

Schleiermacher,  F.,  59,  433,  458*  ff. 

Scholastic  method,  160  f. 

Scholastic  problem,  159  f. 

Scholastic  sources,  163. 

Scholasticism,  135  ff.,  155  ff.;  de* 
cline  of,  207  ff.;  opposition  to, 
178ff.,  203  ff.,  227  if.;  Protestant- 
ism and,  247  f. 

School  of  Athens,  126. 

Schopenhauer,  A.,  478,  485*  ff.,  492, 
574,  576. 

Schubert-Soldern,  R.,  494. 

Schultz,  H.,  494. 

Schultze,  J.,  426. 

Schulze,  G.  E.,  428,  437. 

Schuppe,  W.,  494. 

Schiitz,  427. 

Schwenkfeld,  C.,  248. 

Science.    See  Natural  Science. 

Scientific  method,  criticism  of 
431  ff.,  437  ff.,  453  f. 

Scottish  philosophy,  363  f.,  380,  504 
513  ff. 


INDEX 


609 


Scotus,  Du^s.    See  Duns  Scotus. 
Scotus  Erigena.    See  Erigena. 
Secondary   qualities.     See   Primary 

Qualities. 
Secretan,  C.,  511. 
Self-evident    knowledge,     60,     80  f., 

107,    274  if.,    314,    315,    316,   354, 

363.     See  A  priori  Knowledge. 
Self-interest,  43  f.,   71,    101  ff.,    115, 

261,  269  f.,  323  ff.,  333  f.,  334,  509, 

533.    See  Egoism. 
Self-preservation,     112,     261,     269, 

304  ff.,  481  f. 
Self-realization,     69  ff.,     89  ff.,     96, 

11  Iff.,  305  f.,  554  ff. 
Seneca,  104,  120. 
Sensation,  permanent  possibility  of, 

525  ff. 
Sensationalism,  253  f.,  307  f.,  330  f., 

386  f.,    503  f.,    564  f.,    568  f.     See 

also  Empiricism. 
Sense-perception,     25,    28,     33,    39, 

60  ff.,  67  f.,  73,  81,  87,  98  f.,  106, 

117,  150  f.,  199  f.,  216,  265  ff.,  302, 

310  ff.,  330  f.,  339,  347  ff.,  399  ff., 

427  f.,   430,  440  f.,  452,  454,  473, 

480,    482,    525  f.,    543  ff.,    564  ff., 

568  f.,  573. 
Sentences,  175*,  190. 
Septuagint,  122. 
Sermones,  172  f. 
Sextius,  120,  125. 
Sextus  Empiricus,  117,  119*. 
Shaftesbury,  A.,  329,  332*,  395. 
Shepherd  of  Hermas,  138. 
Shyreswood,  William,  204. 
Sibylline  Oracles,  123. 
Sidgwick,  H.,  534  f. 
Sidney,  A.,  325  n. 
Siger  of  Brabant,  189,  208. 
Simon  of  Tournay,  178,  225. 
Simonides,  9. 
Simplicius,  132. 
Sin.    See  Original  Sin. 
Birach,  Wisdom  of,  123. 
Sitte,  474. 
Sittlichkeit,  475. 
Skepticism,   12,    16,   40  ff.,   75,    104, 

116ff.,     234,     246,     254,     275  ff., 
291  f.,  335,  342,  343,  345,  354,  355, 

384,  392,  428,  563. 


Slavery,  93,  115. 

Smith,    A.,    325,    333,    334*  f.,   381, 

388. 
Social   feeling,    112,    113,   243,  261, 

326,      332  f.,     509,     533,     546  f., 

553  ff. 
Social     science,     505,     506  ff.,    508, 

509  f.,  518,  529  ff. 
Social    statics   and   dynamics,   509, 

531. 

Socialism,  534,  548. 
Society,   the   individual   and,   71  ff., 

91,  93,  103,  114,  155,  159,  202  f., 

261,  269  ff.,  306,  323  f.,  325  ff.,  424, 

446  f.,    455,    462,    474  f.,    504  ff., 

546  f.,  553  ff.,  576  f. 
Socrates,  12,  43,  45,  50*  ff.,  58,  59, 

60,  62,  64. 
Socratic  irony,  52. 
Socratic  method,  52  ff. 
Socratic  school,  57  f. 
Solidity,  321. 
Solipsism,  494,  558. 
Solomon,  Wisdom  of,  123,  138. 
Solon,  9. 

Sophists,  12,  16,  40*  ff.,  63,  64. 
Sophocles,  41,  43. 
Sotion,  126. 
Soul-Substance,   150,  197,  267,  276, 

28  Iff.,  318ff.,  339,  355  f.,  368  ff., 

407  f.,    410,    482  f.,    496  ff.,    626, 

543  f.,  565,  569. 
Sovereignty,  243,  271. 
Space,  21,  28,  29  f.,  37,  65,  85  f.,  100, 

124,    130,    149,    267,    280  f.,    290, 

295  f.,  318,   338,  340,  343,  367  f., 

378,  399  ff.,  486. 
Spaulding,  E.  8.,  581. 
Spencer,  H.,  635*  ff.,  551,  6*6. 
Spener,  P.  J.,  382. 
Spermata,  34  ff.,  100. 
Speusippus,  75. 
Spinoza,  254,  287,  288,  292*  ff.,  366, 

366.  380,  392,  456. 
Spinoziam,  294,  366,  432,  449,  418, 

460,  495.  498. 

Spirit  of  Middle  AgM,  168  ff. 
Spirit*.  336,  339  f.,  342. 
Spiritualism.  66.  73  f..  272.  W8.  »7. 

362.  370,  410.    8 
Stammler,  R.,  494. 


610 


INDEX 


State  Church,  135. 

State  and  Church,  159,  202  f.,  222  f., 

241.    See  also  Politics. 
Statics  and  dynamics,  508. 
Stewart,  D.,  364. 
Stilpo,  58,  104. 
Stirling,  J.  H.,  549. 
Stirner,  M.,  577. 
Stoicism,  13,  58,  96,  104*  ff.,  117  f., 

123,  232,  236,  285,  374. 
Strato,  94. 
Strauss,  D.,  477. 
Strong,  C.  B.,  562. 
Sturt,  H.,  574. 
Suarez,  F.,  203. 
Subjective  idealism,  335  ff.,  354,  400, 

428  f.,  440  f.,  563,  565  f.,  569  f. 
Sub  specie  ceternitatis,  294,  299. 
Substance,  14,  16  ff.,  26  ff.,  63,  81  ff., 

194,  267,  279  ff.,  292  f.,  295  ff.,  312, 

315,    316  f.,    338,    341,    345,    352, 

353,  365,  367,  403,  480  f.,  516. 
Substantial     forms,     63,     352,    362. 

See  also  Realism,  Medieval. 
Sufism,  184. 

Sufficient  reason,  principle  of,  379. 
Summists,  175*,  190. 
Swaywy^,   61. 
Superman,  46  f.,  576. 
Supernaturalism,    140,    141,    1881, 

225  f.,     250  ff.,     503.       See     also 

Transcendency. 

Supernaturalistic  ethics,  189,   198  f. 
Suso,  H.,  218. 
Swammerdam,  371. 
Syllogism,    61,    80,    107,    161,    258, 

520.    See  Deduction. 
Sylvester  II,  167. 
Sympathy.    See  Social  Feeling. 
Syncretism,  121. 
Synderesis,  200. 
Syneidesis,  200. 
Synesius,  132,  145. 
Synthesis,  265,  535  f.,  581,  589. 
Synthetic  Judgments,  397  ff. 
Synthetic  unity  of  apperception,  403. 

Taine,  H.,  511. 
Tarde,  G.,  511. 
Tatian,  140,  141. 
Tauler,  J.,  218. 


Taurellus,  N.,  248. 

Teleological  argument  for  existence  i 
of    God,     109,     118,     195  f.,    295, 
343  f.,   358  f.,   416  f.;    critique   of,  : 
118,  3581,  4161 

Teleology,  34 1,  64  ff.,  74,  76,  78, 
82  ff.,  86,  109,  142,  295,  304,  358  1, 
368,  441,  443 1,  451  ff.,  465  ff.,  | 
500;  critique  of,  358  f.;  mechan- 
ism and,  260,  373,  433,  4531, 
495  ff. ;  use  of,  in  science,  420  f . 

Telesian  Academy,  236. 

Telesio,  B.,  236*,  258. 

Temple,  W.,  256. 

Termini,  215. 

Tertullian,  140. 

Tetens,  N.,  381. 

Text-books  of  early  Middle  Ages, 
163. 

Thales,  16*. 

Theism,  74,  85,  1231,  131,  134, 
195  1,  238,  278,  281,  321  1,  335  1, 
357  ff.,  373  1,  425  1,  477,  570.  See 
also  Deism,  Pantheism,  and  The- 
ology. 

Themistius,  132,  180,  181. 

Theocritus,  122. 

Theodorus  of  Asine,  132. 

Theodorus  of  Gaza,  230. 

Theognis,  9. 

Theogony,  10. 

Theology,  Greek,  101,  13,  261,  49, 
661,  731,  75,  85,  1091,  120  ff., 
127  ff.;  Christian,  133  ff.,  137  ff., 
138  f.,  140  ff.,  149  ff.,  156  1,  160  ff., 
1641,  168,  169  ff.,  173,  195  ff., 
2111,  214  ff.;  Arabian,  181  ff.; 
modern,  261  ff.,  277  ff.,  289,  295  ff., 
307,  3211,  330,  342  ff.,  357  ff., 
3<  J  1,  415  ff.,  442  ff.,  458  ff.,  470  1, 
494,  497,  508.  See  also  Deism. 
Pantheism,  and  Theism. 

Theology,  moral,  421  ff. 

Theophany,  165. 

Theophilus,  140. 

Theophrastus,  94. 

Theophrastus  von  Hohenheim.  Set 
Paracelsus. 

Theory  of  Knowledge.  See  Know! 
edge. 

Theory  of  State.     See  Politics. 


INDEX 


611 


Theosophy,  120  ff. 
Theurgy.    See  Magic. 
Thierry,  174. 

Things-in-themselves,  39  f.,  266  f., 
280,  286,  394,  401,  406  ff.,  427  f., 
43  If.,  440  f.,  479  f.,  486  f.,  496, 
516,  525  f.,  538,  544  f.,  556  ff.,  571, 
575. 
Thomas  Aquinas.  See  Aquinas, 

Thomas. 
Thomas  a  Kempis,  218. 
Thomas  de  Vio,  203. 
Thomas  of  Strasburg,  203. 
Thomasius,  C.,  365. 
["homasius,  J.,  366. 
Chemists  and  Scotists,  217. 
Thought  and  Being,  469  ff. 
Thucydides,  41,  43,  44. 
Pieck,  L.,  449. 
rimceus,  66  ff.,  163. 
Time,    124,    129  f.,    149,    196,    343, 

398  ff.,  405  f.,  577  f.    See  Space. 
?imocharus,  122. 
Timon  of  Phlius,  116. 
Tindal,  M.,  330. 
Toland,  J.,  330,  387. 
Traducianism,  151. 
Transcendency,  74,  75  f.,  123  f.,  127, 

141  f.,  165,  296. 

Transcendent  principles,  409  ff. 
Transcendental  Esthetic,  398  ff. 
Transcendental  Analytic,  402  ff. 
Transcendental  Deduction,  403  ff. 
Transcendental  Dialectic,  408  ff. 
Transcendental  idealism,  451  f. 
Transcendental  Ideas,  409  ff. 
Transcendental  illusion,  409  ff. 
Transcendental  Logic,  398,  402  ff. 
Transcendental    method,    398,    400, 

430,  435  ff.,  453,  454  f.,  479  fc- 
Translations  of  Aristotle  in  Middle 

Ages,  163,  180  f. 
Transmigration    of    souls,    68,    130, 

143. 

Trendelenburg,  F.  A.,  477. 
Trinity,  141  f.,  142  ff.,  149,  168,  171, 

173. 

Trivium,  158. 

Truth,  40  ff.    See  Theory  of  Knowl- 
edge. 
Truth  and  error.  279,  302  f. 


Tschirahauaen,  W.,  3«. 

Tufta,  J.  H.,  555,  562. 

Turgot,  A.,  334,  388. 

Twofold  truth,  160,  190  f.,  182,  204. 

209. 

Tychiam,  670. 
Tyler,  Wat,  224. 
Tyrannies,  8  f. 
Tyrannic,  94. 
Tyrrell,  Father,  574. 


,  82. 

Unconditioned,  410  ff.,  515  f. 
Unconscious,   129,  214  ff.,  369,  372, 

376  f.,  451  ff.,  466,  487,  490  f. 
Understanding,    theory    of,     402  ff. 

See  Discursive  Thought. 
Uniformity,  law  of,  520  ff. 
Universal  brotherhood,  115. 
Universal    intellect,    89,    185,    187, 

197,  232,  298  f. 
Universal  and  necessary  knowledge, 

52,  60  ff.,  80  f.,  194  f.,  375  f.,  394, 

397  ff.,    520  ff.,    524  f.,    575.      Be* 

A  priori  Knowledge. 
Universal  parallelism,  390  f. 
Universals,    52,    57  f.,    60  ff.,    «3  ff., 

78,    80  f.,    82  f.,    99,    106,    182  f., 

166  ff.,  171,  172  f.,  178,  179,  181  ff., 

194  f.,  209  f.,  214  ff.,  370  f. 
Universities,  179,  217,  365. 
Utilitarianism,    332,    518,    532*  ff, 

545  f.,  551. 
Utility    of    knowledge,    255  f.,    257, 

264,  272.    Set  Pragmatism. 

Vacherot,  E.,  511. 

Vaihinger,  H.,  493,  574. 

Valentine,  139. 

Valla,  Laurentius,  229. 

Value,  philosophy  of,  500  ff.,  MIL} 

science  of,  484  f. 
Vaaqutz,  G.,  203. 
Vaudois,  224. 
Victorine.,  170*  f.,  225. 
Victorious,  163. 
Vincent  of  Beaurmii,  181,  204. 
da  Vinci,  Leonardo.  236. 
Virtues.  70,  00,   102  f.,   112  ff.,  lit, 

152,  200  f.    809 
Vision,  340. 


612 


INDEX 


Vitalism,  87,  197,  237,  282. 

Vittoria,  F.,  203. 

Vives,  L.,  232. 

Vogt,  K.,  492. 

Volksgeist,  475. 

Volney,  C.  F.  de,  331. 

Volta,  A.,  388. 

Voltaire,  292,  329,  383*  f.,  389,  391. 

Volition.     See  Will. 

Voluntarism,  212  f.,  249,  361,  485  if., 

490  f.,   499  f.,    512  f.,    565,   571  ff., 

574  ff. 

Waldenses,  224. 

Waldo,  Peter,  224. 

Walter  of  Mortagne,  174. 

Walter  of  St.  Victor,  176. 

War,  243  f.,  475. 

Ward,  J.,  549. 

Warro,  208. 

Watson,  J.,  562. 

Weigel,  E.,  366. 

Weigel,  V.,  248. 

Weisse,  C.  H.,  477,  403. 

Wenley,  R.  M.,  562. 

Whewell,  W.,  513*  f.,  549. 

Will,  88,  90,  101,  111,  151,  192, 
197  f.,  208,  211,  216  f.,  268  f., 
279,  303  f.,  339,  351,  499  f.,  504, 
523.  See  Freedom  of  Will,  and 
Voluntarism. 

Will  and  intellect,  192,  197,  212, 
303  f.;  God  and,  10»,  110,  294  f. 


William  of  Auvergne,  181. 
William  of  Auxerre,  171. 
William  of  Champeaux,  171*,  172. 
William  of  Conches,  174,  225. 
William  of  Occam,  215*  ff.,  223,  226, 

362,  513. 

Winckelmann,  J.  J.,  386,  483. 
Windelband,  W.,  477,  500*  f.,  563. 
Winkler,  B.,  244. 
Wissenschaftslehre,  433  ff .,  459  f. 
Witelo,  205. 
Wolff,   Christian,   254,   380*  f.,   382, 

393. 

Wolff,  C.  F.,  371,  388. 
Wollaston,  W.,  363. 
Woodbridge,  F.  J.  E.,  581  f. 
Woolston,  T.,  330. 
Wordsworth,  W.,  549. 
World-soul,  39,  66,  123  f.,  129,  498. 

See  Pantheism. 
Wundt,  W.,  494,  498*  f. 
Wyclif,  223,  224. 

Xenocrates,  75. 
Xenophanes,  26*  ff. 
Xenophon,  53  ff. 

Zacharias  Scholasticus,  145. 
Zeller,  E.,  59,  65,  77,  121,  137,.  493, 
Zeno  the  Eleatic,  29*  f. 
Zeno  the  Stoic,  13,  104*. 
Zwingli,  247. 


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